Time is a Healer
by Hannanora-Potter
Summary: Harry Ron & Hermione are suddenly pulled into the Marauder's sixth year at Hogwarts. Delighted with the chance to meet his parents & reunite with Sirius, Harry starts cutting his ties with the future. And what's the monster that's starting to stalk Harry?
1. In which it all begins

**Title:** Time is a Healer

**Summary:** Harry, Ron and Hermione are suddenly and inexplicably thrown into the Marauders' sixth year at Hogwarts. Delighted with this chance to meet his parents and reunite with the recently deceased Sirius, Harry soon starts to cut his ties for the future, leaving Ron and Hermione seriously worried. And what's the monster that's starting to stalk Harry?

**Timeline and Spoilers:** Books 1 through 5, at the beginning of Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts (very beginning)

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and any related characters and setting are all the property of J.K. Rowling and not me.

**Extra:** '_blah_' = thoughts

**AN:** I have edited this story so that each chapter is no longer than 10,000 words. The original chapter 13 was over 30,000 which was ridiculous. Therefore returning readers **the new chapter is chapter 20**, not chapter 16. Thanks.

**Chapter One: In Which It All Begins:**

Hermione Granger hurtled through the corridors fleet slipping and sliding on the well-polished floor. '_I don't believe it!_' she groaned, as she glanced desperately at her watch. '_Twenty past! I've _never_ been so late for a lesson _ever_!_'

She didn't know how she'd come to be so late. One minute she was dozing in the common room, next zooming through the empty halls. Well, all right, being asleep wasn't quite the best way for one to pay attention to class time, but honestly – twenty minutes late? She threw another glance at her watch. '_Eleven twenty _four_! Is time speeding up or something?'_

She launched herself on the nearest staircase, but she had only taken a few leaps, before the stairs lurched and she was thrown against the stone railing: the staircase was moving. Righting herself, she tried not to jiggle impatiently on the spot whilst it swivelled to its new destination. Already she was gasping for breath and her book bag was beginning to drag on her shoulders.

The staircase came to a grinding halt and Hermione jumped off, onto the new corridor. Almost immediately, the staircase began to slide away again and Hermione realised with dismay that she had never been in this part of Hogwarts before now. The elaborate tapestries that hung on the wall were a complete mystery and she had never seen the portraits before. Several wizened wizards stared at her just as intently as she did them.

A small beeping at her wrist brought her back to reality – the watch now read 11:30. This unexplored corridor would have to wait – right now, she had to get to Charms. With speed induced by a slight panic, Hermione set off, her legs protesting slightly. She chose speed over carefulness.

'_OK, so I've never been in this _particular_ corridor before,_'she told herself, dodging an ornamental vase on a stand._ ' But, it's on the same floor, so Charms has _got_ to be around here somewhere.'_

"_Tempus temporissss…._"

A ghostly whisper echoed around the halls and brought Hermione back down to Earth. She continued running, but looked over her shoulder in shock, intently searching for the owner of the voice. But there was no one, or, indeed, no _thing_ there: just the seemingly endless corridor. Hermione had to blink sudden tears from her eyes – for a moment that had sounded like Sirius.

As she twisted around, her foot caught on the hem of her robes and she tripped. Instinctively, she flung out an arm to catch hold of something to stop her fall. Dimly, she registered cool metal on her skin before a sharp pain flared and warmth drenched her hand. She caught a brief glimpse of a wizard and a sword before she fell on her back to gaze at the ceiling.

Even that change of scenery was short lived as her momentum caused her to roll back over herself. As she knocked her head on the floor, Hermione mentally screamed, '_I don't have _TIME_ for this!'_

It was so quick that she thought she had imagined it. A flash of blue light and a overpowering wind, but it lasted barely a second. And when Hermione grounded to a halt, everything was as it was before. Well, apart from the fact that she, and all her books, were sprawled over the now blood splattered floor.

She tentatively examined her hand. Despite the fact that it seemed to be bleeding a lot, it didn't actually hurt very much. Concluding that it was probably shallow, Hermione didn't bother about tying it up. She feverishly gathered up her belongings and shoved them in the bag, not even wincing as the once glossy books were smeared with blood and dust. She was too late.

Setting off again she checked her watch and groaned. Only 20 minutes left! Where _was_ the time going? She rounded a corner and saw with relief that it was the same corridor as her charms classroom. And she sprinted the last few feet, to skid to a halt in front of the classroom.

If she hadn't have been in such a big hurry, Hermione would have noticed something funny about the corridor she had just come down. For one thing, it immediately closed up behind her, looking for all the world as innocent, solid wall – which it was. If Hermione had been thinking straight she would have known that she had never been down the corridor before for the simple reason that it didn't usually exist. But her head was too full of impending detentions and point losses to pay attention to anything as unimportant as an nonexistent corridor.

So she wrenched open the Charms door and burst in, slamming the heavy door behind her. "Sorry I'm…l-late, Pro-professor," she gasped, in between gulps of air and clutching her stomach. "I was…"

She stopped as she caught sight of the class – the _wrong_ class. She had never met _any_ of these people before – never even _seen_ them. They stared at her in varying degrees of mirth. Hermione was suddenly extremely self-conscious and could feel the heat rising from her cheeks, making her already pink face turn red, right down to the roots. She was extra aware that her hair – although magically smoothed that morning – was sticking up in odd places and that her robes were askew as a result of her fall. Her robes were smeared with dust and blood and her hand steadily trickled blood onto the stone floor.

"Err…you are?"

Hermione jumped at the squeaky voice and turned to face Professor Flitwick, who was staring at her with polite confusion. There was something funny about the way he looked, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

"W-What?" she gasped, a little confused herself. Why was he asking for her name?

Flitwick assumed a look of great patience and the tone of someone explaining something very obvious to a child. "What is your name?" he repeated, staring at her. Hermione blushed even more (if it was possible) as the class began to giggle.

"But you already know my name, Professor," she protested. What on Earth was going on? _Flitwick_, asking for her name, when she had excelled in every exam he had ever set_?_

"My dear girl, if I already knew your name, I would not be asking," Flitwick pointed out, as a few people began to snigger.

Hermione was getting really confused now, even as she hesitantly answered him. "Hermione."

Flitwick seemed to be waiting for a surname, but Hermione didn't offer one. Instead she looked around the classroom again. With a shock she saw that the class was indeed Gryffindors, but was being shared with Slytherins. And she didn't recognise _any_ of them.

"A-hem."

Hermione whipped her head around to face Flitwick again, and immediately wished she hadn't, as her head ached sharply. '_I must have hit it harder than I thought_,' she reflected, but then realised that Flitwick was saying something.

"…house are you in?"

House? '_Now this is just getting annoying_.' "Gryffindor!" she cried, exasperated. Maybe he couldn't see it – for goodness sake, she was wearing the Gryffindor colours on her bloody _uniform_!

"And which year?" Flitwick inquired, pausing to throw an annoyed glare at the class, which were trying really hard not to laugh out loud at her.

"_Sixth_ year!"

Silence. The class had stopped clutching their bellies and sniggering. Instead they just looked at her in shock and surprise, as if she was insane. Hermione began to half wish they would go back to laughing. This shocked silence was even worse and it made her tummy do a little back flip in her stomach. Even Flitwick looked a little surprised.

"Sixth?" he repeated, incredulously. Hermione just nodded. She silently tried to will her hair slowly back into place, but nothing could stop the flush in her cheeks. "Well, erm, you will just have to sit in the back of the class for the remainder of this lesson," continued Flitwick, doubtfully. It looked as though he had made a quick decision. "You must be a transfer student."

What?_ ' Wait a minute – does this mean that this _is_ the sixth year charms class? And he thinks I'm a _transfer_ student?'_ Hermione had half a mind to protest, to find out what was really going on, but her hand suddenly gave a painful throb. A pounding headache began to beat at her temples and exhaustion crept over her. '_Later,' _she told herself_. 'I just need to sit down_**.'** She nodded.

"Well, you can sit over there with Potter."

Weariness vanished. "Harry? Where?" If Harry were here, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. At least she would know someone. But why hadn't she spotted him already?

"Harry?" squeaked Flitwick, confused. "No, no, no – James. James Potter. Over there, look." And he motioned with his hand to a desk at the back.

Hermione followed his tiny arm with a feeling of dread. At the back, a boy raised his hand at her. He was identical to Harry in nearly every single way, except there was no lightning scar on his forehead; the eyes that twinkled mischievously at her where a hazelnut brown, not emerald green. And the person that sat next to him was not Ron. It wasn't even any of the other Gryffindors. Hermione would have preferred even Draco Malfoy over the strikingly handsome, black shaggy haired boy that sat next to Har – no, _James?_ It was unmistakably, _Sirius_.

Being impossibly faced with two dead people, Hermione gave up trying to find answers. She fainted.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

"Do you reckon she needs the Kiss Of Life?" The voice was male and low, but had a merry tone.

Laughter. Lots of it.

"James!" This one was feminine and sounded both shocked and disgusted.

"Because, you know, I'd be happy to volunteer," the first voice continued.

"Why should you get all the fun, Prongs?" asked another male voice, this one a sort of booming bark. In the swirling blackness that was surrounding her, Hermione sort of recognised it – it was certainly familiar – but she didn't know where from. At the moment, the conversation didn't make much sense. Her brains were agonisingly rising out of the dark, dank muck that was very keen to hang on to them.

"Well, seeing as my good looks caused her to faint in the first place I should offer my services in reviving her – she was obviously so awe-struck at my perfect physique that she couldn't handle it and thus, fainted."

More laughter.

"Umm, gentlemen, maybe we should take her to the hospital wing, yes?" suggested a squeaky voice, but he was drowned out by the second man's booming laugh.

"You, Prongs, surely not," he dismissed the other man – Prongs, what sort of name was that? – and added, "Besides, she clearly looked at me last, so it would have been my handsome features that made her faint –"

"More like your ugly mug," muttered Prongs, but even a half-witted, semi-unconscious Hermione could tell he didn't really mean it.

" – so I should be the one to administer the young lady's kiss of life," concluded the other man, with a chuckle.

"You boys are disgusting and perverted," snapped the female.

"But, Evans, we're only providing a service," protested Prongs, indignantly. "We do it just to help others – you think this is all for ourselves?" he asked, in mock horror, as the giggles started to mount again. "You know, Evans, if you were ever to faint, I'd be the first to step up and revive you. But then, you know, if you'd go out with me now, we could get in some early practice. You know, to practice my, uh, _technique_."

All Prongs got was a hhmmphhh and a lot of laughter.

"You know, Padfoot, I really do think we should take her along to Madam Pomfrey," commented a quiet voice, which held a note of amusement nevertheless.

"What!" Padfoot sounded scandalised. Padfoot, another bizarre name. Most frustrating of all, she had the feeling she knew that name – and Prongs – just like she recognised nearly all of the voices. Why was she surrounded in blackness like this?

"But Moony, my dear pal, all we need is right here," cried Padfoot and made a horrible smacking sound.

The laughs were coming thick and fast now. Someone jostled her hand and pain hit her in waves. And the pain did something for her what this extremely confusing and bizarre conversation couldn't – it cleared away the last of the muck in her mind. Memory came flooding back – late for charms – that corridor – falling – cut hand – wrong class – Flitwick didn't know who she was – transfer student – and Potter. James Potter and Sirius Black.

Hermione sat up as quickly as her aching bones would let her and... SMACK!

Hermione gritted her teeth as, once again, her head threatened to burst. Her temples throbbed and a funny roaring noise filled her ears. She rapidly blinked watering eyes and her vision swayed dangerously in front of her. Dimly she heard someone cursing and swearing. She dug her fingernails of her uninjured hand into her palm until they bled. For a few more seconds all her senses screamed in agony, then the pain lessened.

Taking deep, calming breaths, Hermione looked around. She saw a few students huddled anxiously around a black haired adolescent clutching his head and swearing violent. Tiny Professor Flitwick looked a bit shocked and was tentatively approaching the group of teenagers, all of whom were considerably taller than him.

This was all Hermione could see before her vision was blocked by a pair of concerned emerald green eyes and a shock a red hair.

"Hey, are you alright?" asked who was unmistakably Lilly Potter – no, not Potter. Evans. Or was it? Hermione was so confused that she felt tears well up in her eyes and her head began to spin again. She looked at her shaking knees.

"Er, Her-Hermione?" prompted the other teenager, uncertainly.

Hermione looked up. "I'm fine," she lied and before anyone could stop her she jumped up off the floor and sprinted out the door.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

Hermione ran and ran, not knowing where her labouring steps took her, only that she was running. At the back of her mind she realised the bell must have gone as the halls were now milling with students. In fact it was exceedingly hard to get through and students kept calling out indignantly.

This was impossible. She couldn't have travelled back in time, could she? That was – well, not impossible. After all, she had had that time-turner thing in the Third Year. But years? Decades? Besides, she hadn't got the time turner anymore, so that was out of the question.

Could it be a dream? It was certainly bizarre enough. Her hand got snagged against a passing Hufflepuffs bag and the resulting pain put that out of the question. And even as it was bizarre, this Hogwarts was entirely real, too. Besides, her head ached too much for it to be real.

A practical joke? No, it wasn't even funny. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws would never think of such a thing, it wasn't vicious enough to savour the Slytherins twisted humour and nobody in Gryffindor would find it funny.

Was she going insane_? ' Well, if I am, then I'm saner than everyone _else_ around here_,' she thought, with a detached sense of wry humour.

That brought her to the worst, and scariest, scenario. She was dead. It wasn't really that far-fetched. After all, James, Lily and Sirius were dead. She felt an uprising of guilt and sorrow at the last. Although she wasn't as close to Sirius as Harry had been, she still felt a great loss at his death. She had tried to put on a brave face for Harry, but she was hurting inside, all the same. '_Sirius, oh god, I'm sorry,'_ she whispered mentally allowing a slight respite into grief, before getting onto the more pressing problem.

Could she be dead? It was a possibility. But then she was pretty sure that Professor Flitwick was still alive and kicking, as was Remus Lupin. Now she realised that his was the other voice – quiet and silently amused. So she struck this off the list, leaving her with no more plausible situations. She was at a loss. What was she to do?

Her feet suddenly clattered to a stop. Hermione came out of her thoughts and smiled. Of course – _Dumbledore_. How could she have been so stupid? Dumbledore would know – he knew everything – and he would know instantly what to do.

Or, at least, she hoped he would.

But there was one little snag: she had no idea where Dumbledore's office was. Harry would be able to take her there in an instant – but Harry wasn't there: that was her problem. Even Ron had been to the Headmaster's office, although she doubted he could tell her where here where it is. He wasn't the most reliable of people when it came to finding their way around Hogwarts.

Her stomach growled suddenly – she was starving. Looking at her watch, she realised it was lunch time. She smiled again – hopefully Professor Dumbledore will be there. Plus she was starving – all that running and apparent travelling through time was quite hunger inducing. Turning about face – her subconscious mind had lead her feet towards Gryffindor Tower – she headed down to the Great Hall.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

**AN: **Thank you for reading and a special thanks go to **psy** who gave me the Latin translation for 'time is a healer'! Thank you!

Love,

Hannanora-Potter

~x~x~x~


	2. In which things are explained

**Title:** Time is a Healer

**Summary:** Harry, Ron and Hermione are suddenly and inexplicably thrown into the Marauders' sixth year at Hogwarts. Delighted with this chance to meet his parents and reunite with the recently deceased Sirius, Harry soon starts to cut his ties for the future, leaving Ron and Hermione seriously worried. And what's the monster that's starting to stalk Harry?

**Timeline and Spoilers:** Books 1 through 5, at the beginning of Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts (very beginning)

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and any related characters and setting are all the property of J.K. Rowling and not me.

**Extra:** '_blah_' = thoughts

**Chapter Two – In Which Things Are Explained:**

"And she just looked around and fainted when she saw Sirius and me!" finished James dramatically, even forgetting to mess up his jet-black hair as he got caught up in the excitement of the mornings events. Peter was staring at him wide-eyed and enviously.

"Just like that?" he squealed, excitedly, staring at James, entranced.

"Just like that," confirmed James.

"What does she look like?" asked Peter, earnestly. He was beginning to get really annoyed that he had missed all this. Why did that damn magic snake had to bite him, hey? He'd had to spend the whole of yesterday and this morning in the Hospital Wing and look – life was boring ever since the start of term and suddenly a mysterious girl pops up.

"Quite pretty," commented Sirius, absent-mindedly crushing a bread roll to a pulp in his huge hands. "I mean, she was pretty messed up when she came in – looked like she'd been running a marathon. Her hair was all messed up, everything was covered with blood and dust, but you could still she was pretty. Long sleek brown hair and the most perfect brown-chocolate eyes." He stopped, aware that the other three were smirking at him. "What?"

"You've fallen for her, man – big time!" teased James, laughing.

Padfoot glared at him, although he had gone a little pink. "Believe what you will, Prongs my friend," he drawled, throwing his pulpified roll at his best friend.

"Oooh," exclaimed Peter, laughing at his friend's antics. It wasn't often he got to be the teaser and not the teased. "Sirius and... er – what's her name?"

"Hermione," answered Remus, covering his grin with a hand as he regarded a now very red Sirius. "Wonder what her surname is?"

"She _has_ to be foreign or she would have been her from the start," added James, looking thoughtful. "Pretty name, Hermione – but it's very English, isn't it?"

"She could have been home schooled," Remus pointed out. "Or in one of the smaller independent schools – Hogwarts isn't the only magical school in Britain, you know."

"Oh, yes. Well, they're not very well funded," mused James, thoughtfully. "And a lot of them are closing now – being targeted by Voldemort in addition to falling numbers – parents feel Hogwarts is safer. Maybe that's why she's here."

"Yeah, I suppose she _could_ be from one of them… but I'm not convinced," frowned Sirius, looking over the Great Hall. "Did you see her face when Flitwick said she was a transfer?"

"Yeah – like she was gonna argue," agreed James, forking some potatoes on to his plate. He had just taken a mouthful when Sirius grabbed hold of his arm painfully tightly. He choked.

"Padfoot," coughed James, giving Sirius a glare. But Sirius was not looking at him. He was looking across the table at someone who had just entered the hall.

"It's _her_," he hissed and all three twisted in their seats. It was indeed 'her', although her hair was now much smoother and sleeker and her face not flushed with running. Her robes were still a little dust and blood streaked and her hand still left a trail of red liquid behind her.

Sirius jumped to his feet and waved furiously, motioning for her to sit with them. Hermione didn't seem to notice them, although Remus noticed her cheeks flushed slightly as her gaze swept over where they were sitting. She instead went and sat in some chairs that were all alone.

Sirius sat down, but still stared at the solitary girl that was such a mystery. The conversation went on around him, but Sirius only half paid attention as he studied the girl, Hermione. Once, she sensed his gaze and looked up from her meal. Meeting his eyes, she blushed furiously and immediately looked down at her plate again, as though she had never seen something so fascinating before.

"...totally smitten," laughed James next to him, and he realised that all three Marauders were, once again, staring at him. With an effort, he turned back.

"No, I'm not," he protested, but to no avail. Peter and James just grinned and laughed, whilst Remus gave him a highly amused look – which was enough. "She's just a mystery. I just want to find out what her story is – what's her surname, who's Harry, how'd she get here? That's _all_ I'm interested in."

"Right," commented James, sarcastically, but left the subject alone. "You know, the map could tell us what her surname is."

"Well, it would if we still had it," corrected Sirius gloomily, glaring at his food. "Damn you, Filch!" He looked up suddenly, grinning. "Well, I think it's been much too long since we played a prank on dear old Filch – maybe now's the perfect time. Plus we can get the Map back." He shot to his feet and tugged on James' arm. "Come on, James! Let's go!"

"What - now?" asked James, incredulously. "In the middle of lunch?" He gave a sorrowful gesture to their half eaten lunch. "Padfoot, you're going to starve us all!"

Sirius glared at him.

"Umm, sorry to interrupt, but she doesn't look too good, does she?" commented Remus, looking over at Hermione, frowning slightly.

"What?" Sirius and James quickly stopped their glaring contest and looked over at Hermione, who, indeed, did not 'look too good'. She had gone chalk white and her hands were shaking as she tried to cut a slice of steak. The four Marauders saw her give her injured hand a horrified expression, before she shakily rose to her feet.

"It looks like she's going to faint again," announced James, turning to Sirius, but Sirius was already out of his seat and racing down to the other end of the table. He was there in time to catch Hermione when she fainted.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

Hermione gave a low moan and rolled over in her bed. What a bizarre dream she had had. She felt warmth on her cheeks and realised the sun must be up already. She groaned again. She felt like she hadn't got a wink of sleep and pulled the covers over her head. She didn't want to get up yet.

She could hear whispering voices above her and groaned once more. Parvati and Lavender again. For them, though, this was very quiet: usually they managed to giggle and gossip at the tops of their voices. However, she was sure that this lapse into quietness couldn't last. She involuntarily tensed herself against the coming squeal of laughter.

Instead, gentle hands found and shook her shoulders. Hermione half opened an eye in surprise and was greeted by folds of blue cloth with some sort of funny criss-cross pattern. '_What the - ? Oh. Yeah._'She had pulled the covers over her head.

As she dragged the covers over her head, a burst of bright sunlight blinded her and she shut her eyes. She opened them again a few seconds later, to be greeted with the sign of Madam Pomfrey standing over her holding some potions.

"How are you feeling, my dear?" she asked, frowning down on Hermione, as though she expected green boils to sprout under her very nose. She didn't wait for an answer before shoving a goblet of murky brown liquid under her nose. "Drink this," she ordered curtly, proceeding to frown over her.

Hermione took it, with a feeling of dread. She'd had enough experience of Madam Pomfrey's potions to know what they would taste like, but this seemed worse than ever. It was a dank, murky brown colour and smelt strongly of dragon dung. Hermione looked at it apprehensively, steeling herself to drink the liquid. She probably wouldn't have done it but, a) she knew it would help (though to be fair she didn't really know why she was there in the first place, or what was wrong with her) and b) Madam Pomfrey was still standing over her. So Hermione pinched her nose and swallowed.

It tasted just as bad as it smelt. Worse, in fact. Hermione had a really hard time to not just throw it all back up. When she had finished, Madam Pomfrey gave her an approving look and handed her a stack of Honeydukes best chocolate, which Hermione gratefully popped in her mouth. That stuff was really vile.

Madam Pomfrey now began to diligently check Hermione's temperature. Hermione started to venture a small query. "Umm, Madam Pomfrey – why am I in here?"

The matron gave her a sharp look. "You don't remember?"

'_If I did, do you think I would be asking?'_ thought Hermione, annoyed, but only shook her head.

"You fainted," Madam Pomfrey informed her. "In the Great Hall. When young Mr Black brought you in here you were in a very bad way – you'd lost a load of blood from that cut in your hand and ..."

Hermione looked down. Her hand was heavily bandaged. The one she had cut on the statue – but that was a dream, right? As she took in what the matron's last words, however, Hermione's ears began to roar again. Mr Black – no, no, no! That wasn't a dream! She really was stuck back in time! The charms lesson, that sword – "No!" she whispered, tears welling again.

Madam Pomfrey wasn't paying her any attention. Once she got into one of her rants, she could not be stopped. "...don't know _what_ you were thinking! Didn't you realise that you could loose dangerous amounts of blood? You didn't even tie it up!" ranted Madam Pomfrey, completely oblivious to the fact that her patient wasn't listening to a word she said. Hermione's thoughts seemed to spill out into her brain all at once, in a confusing rabble. What was she going to do? Madam Pomfrey's lecture slid over her and she couldn't pay attention to a word the matron said.

"...and now it won't stop bleeding..."

That, however, Hermione _did_ pay attention to.

"It – it won't stop bleeding?" she whispered, horrified, staring at Madam Pomfrey, who paused suddenly, realising what she had just said.

The nurse hesitated before sitting on the end of Hermione's bed. "No," she began kindly, but her eyes were full of pity. "I'm so sorry, my dear – there's nothing I can do for it. And I've tried, believe me I have. I've sent word to my contacts at St Mungos. They'll be arriving in a few hours to take a look at you. Until we can figure this out, dear, I'm afraid you'll need to come to me every couple of hours to take blood replenishing potions or...or else you'll die."

'_You'll die_.' The words echoed round and round in Hermione's head, which – in contrary to the endless mess it had been only seconds before – was now horrifyingly empty. She found herself shivering in fear. All her worries about time travel had flown out of her head. '_You'll die._'

Madam Pomfrey studied Hermione, trying to smile, but not doing very well. "You'll have to be careful, you know," she warned. "No Quidditch. No duels – nothing that could cause you to bleed. I don't know if this is a general thing, or only applies to this cut, but I don't want to take any chances. A few more cuts like that one and you could die."

'_You'll die_.'

"But – but, it will stop, won't it?" asked Hermione, timidly, though her voice shook. She stared down at her bandaged hand. After all they'd been through together – the Philosophers Stone, Basilisk, the Ministry – a simple cut on her hand was going to kill her?

Another pitying look. "I can't say. I'm sorry." There was a slight pause in which all Hermione could feel was the vast emptiness that threatened to engulf her. Madam Pomfrey got to her feet and was suddenly all business again. "Now, you'll need to come to me before breakfast, at lunch and at dinner time - _without fail_**." **She seemed to expect some sort of answer here, so Hermione nodded dully. "You'll be staying in for the first night at least – then we'll see about letting you loose in the population, as it were. Oh, and we'll need to send an owl to your parents, telling them what happened, so I'll need your name."

It took a few seconds before Madam Pomfrey's last words to sink in. "What?" asked Hermione, angrily. And then, "YOU ALREADY _KNOW_ MY NAME!" she screamed.

Madam Pomfrey looked shocked. "Look, Miss…Whoever!" she snapped, furiously, "I would not ask for your name if I already knew it! And I know you've had quite a bit of a shock, but, really! That is no reason for you to scream at me."

For a few seconds she and Hermione glared at each other. Then Hermione's sense came back to her. She took a deep breath and said, "I want to see Professor Dumbledore."

Madam Pomfrey had stopped glaring now that Hermione was speaking civilly, but her tone was a little frosty. "I'm sorry, but Professor Dumbledore isn't at your beck and call all day long," she sniffed, and stood up, brushing down her skirts. "Now, I really think you should-"

"I WANT – NO, I _NEED_ - TO SEE PROFESSOR DUMBLEDORE, _NOW_!" yelled Hermione, now red in the face. Later she would be horrified that she had behaved so badly, but she was tired, her head ached and she had just received the two biggest shocks of her life.

"And you want to see me because...?" asked a mild voice.

Madam Pomfrey jumped and Hermione went even redder. Standing against the door was Professor Dumbledore. He looked sharply at Hermione who felt herself cringing under that piercing blue gaze. All the same she felt she could see a twinkle of amusement.

"Poppy, if you could leave us alone for a few minutes?" His question was directed to Madam Pomfrey, but his eyes never left Hermione.

Madam Pomfrey stared at him open mouthed and then began to scowl. As she clattered her way out of the hospital wing, collecting blankets and goblets, Hermione could hear her muttering under her breath.

"Ungrateful students...just saved her life...yelling at _me_...Don't even get to attend to my own patients..." Finally, she swept out the room and her mutterings ceased.

Now, however, Hermione was at a lost as to what to say. She stifled a near hysterical laugh at the thought of saying, "Hi, Professor Dumbledore. You don't know me, but I know you – you see, I'm from the future and I know because my best friends dead parents and godfather are walking around playing practical jokes..." What on Earth was she going to say?

Professor Dumbledore was just looking at her still. With a small smile, he opened his mouth to speak. "I must admit to being a trifle bit confused, Miss – er.."

"Granger," informed Hermione.

Dumbledore nodded. "On the one hand I have Professor Flitwick talking to me about a transfer student just popping up in his class, when as far I knew, there are none and then, as I am walking down the corridor, I hear someone screaming that someone already knows her name and that she wants to see me. Someone, whom I have never before seen in my life." Here, he stopped and looked at her shrewdly. "I don't suppose you care to explain?"

Hermione felt an inward sigh of relief. Thank goodness for Dumbledore! At least she could explain now without seeming like a nutter. She had a slight suspicion that Dumbledore already knew the answer and part of her was cringing that he had heard her behaving so appallingly. "I...I think I'm from the future," she explained. When he said nothing, her confidence grew and she continued. "I was late for Charms and I was running down this corridor and I heard this...this voice behind me." '_Sirius' voice,_' she thought with a pang, but pushed that away. "I turned around but there was nothing there, but I tripped and fell. I cut my hand on this statue – "

"What statue?" asked Dumbledore, sharply.

"Umm, I don't really know." Hermione frowned, trying to remember. "I wasn't really paying it too much attention because I was still really late for charms, but I _think_ it was of a wizard holding a sword."

Here, she paused and glanced at Dumbledore, to see if he recognised it. But when he didn't say anything, she had to continue.

"Anyway, I gathered all my stuff and carried on running. I opened the door and burst in, but I _thought_ I was in the wrong class. I didn't know _anyone_. Then Flitwick – er, I mean, Professor Flitwick asked me who I was, and I was really confused, seeing as how he's been teaching me the past five years. I still thought I had managed to turn up to the wrong class, but then Fli – er, Professor Flitwick told me to sit in the class. He hadn't realised that there was a transfer student."

Hermione paused for breath. This next bit was going to be a bit tricky to explain. "He told me to sit next to Potter and I thought he meant Harry, but he said, "No. James Potter." And that's when I saw him and Sirius. And I, er, fainted."

She glanced at Dumbledore, afraid he was going to ask why, but he merely nodded and looked deep in thought.

"Hmmm, interesting," he said and regarded his hands, which were placed finger to finger. "Time travel – yes, that would seem plausible. But how – and why?"

"Does there have to _be_ a why, sir?" asked Hermione. "Can't it just happen?"

"I've usually found that there is a why to everything and, if you find out the why, you can usually figure the solution to one's problem. But, at the moment..." he broke off and sighed, looking at her. "Miss Granger, is there anything more about this statue you want to tell me?"

"Well…" Hermione hesitated. She wasn't sure if she had imagined it, or not.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" prompted Dumbledore.

"After I cut my hand, I _thought_ I saw some blue light and felt a wind, but it was over so quickly I thought I had to have imagined it," said Hermione, all in some what a rush.

"Ah."

"And, I don't know where it is, exactly," Hermione added. Again that piercing gaze. She reddened, though she wasn't sure why. It was quite unnerving, that gaze. "It was the stair cases, moving around and it was in a corridor that I'd never seen before. It comes out by the Charms corridor…" she trailed off, realisation dawning on her. She looked up at Dumbledore. She had been staring at her hands for the past few minutes to avoid Dumbledore's eyes. "But there's no corridor there – only a wall."

Dumbledore nodded sadly. "Yes. And if we can't get to the corridor to examine that statue, there's no way that you can get back," he said.

Hermione felt her eyes water, yet again. Never go home – never see Harry or Ron again? Never – she choked – never see her _parents_?

"This does not mean you will _never_ get back, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said sharply, almost as if he could read what thoughts were swirling round her mind. "No, once you've finished what you were supposed to do, I'm sure that statue and that corridor will reappear to send you home."

"But I don't _know_ what I'm supposed to be doing!" cried Hermione, annoyance quickly overtaking depression. "Even if there is a why, which I _seriously_ doubt! What on Earth can _I_ do?" She dissolved into tears.

"Miss Granger." Dumbledore spoke softly, and when Hermione looked up, his eyes were kind. "Don't worry – I will be doing my utmost to help you. In the meantime, I don't see that there's any reason that you should not continue with your studies. Yes, yes – you can be a transfer student. It is the simplest solution – and most obvious, especially as it seems most of the Sixth year Gryffindors and Slytherins are under that impression. You are a muggle born, yes?"

Hermione nodded stiffly. For once in her life, she didn't care about studying – she wanted to go home! Yesterday she had been slightly impressed with how well she was taking all this, but now she realised she was in shock. Now she was upset, confused and very, very angry!

"Excellent. I don't know if you are familiar with any of the smaller schools in magical Britain?" he enquired.

Hermione frowned. "A few, I think. They all closed in the period following – um, well, that is to say," she continued, hurriedly realising that she was possibly revealing the future to Professor Dumbledore.

Dumbledore smiled sadly at her. "That is sad news… although not entirely unexpected," he said, before sighing. "Truth of the matter is, with all the terrorist acts by Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters have made much of these more vulnerable schools unsafe. I was considering opening up Hogwarts to the school children displaced by the closing schools." He smiled at her, more happily this time. "You, my dear, can pose as our trial run. The board of Governors have been… difficult about this – they don't think such a student can easily adapt to living at Hogwarts after being at such a smaller school for most of their academic life." He grinned at her, eyes twinkling rapidly. "We'll keep the fact that you're actually already a Hogwarts student to ourselves."

Hermione smiled uncertainly at him. She wished she could remember more about the fate of the students of independent schools. Then she'd know for sure if she was changing history or already a part of it.

"Now, one of the more recently closed schools is Marchbanks," continued Dumbledore. "Have you heard of it?" Hermione shook her head, although it sounded vaguely familiar. "Ah well. Madam Marchbanks and I are great friends – I'm sure we can figure something out between us. I will have her owl over the details of her school, so if questioned you may be able to give a reasonable answer."

Hermione nodded grateful. She realised now why the name of the school had sounded so familiar – Madam Marchbanks, who had presumably founded the school, had been one of only two witches on the Wizengamot to openly support Dumbledore last year.

"As you _are_ muggleborn, you can keep your surname as it is," Dumbledore continued. "You have your wand, I presume?"

Again, she nodded and this time reached to withdraw her wand from her robes, but she wasn't wearing any! She was, instead, wearing red stripy pyjamas. "My robes!" she gasped.

"Don't worry," Dumbledore reassured her, motioning to Hermione's bedside cabinet. Her wand was lying there. "Madam Pomfrey made sure to empty the pockets before throwing away your old robes."

"Throw – throw away?" Hermione stuttered weakly.

"Yes, but I sure you, you wouldn't have wanted your old ones – they were covered in blood and dust and who knows what else." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily at her. "Do relax, Miss Granger, or Madam Pomfrey will chuck me out of here."

"But," squeaked Hermione, "but what am I going to _wear_?"

"Oh, don't worry about that," dismissed Dumbledore, getting to his feet with a small groan. "In a few days we'll send you off to Diagon Alley to get some school clothes and equipment. In the meantime, you can borrow some robes. Now, I really must go and leave you to the care of Madam Pomfrey once more as I have a lot to do." He walked towards the door way, but paused and turned back. "Oh, and if you want to write out the subjects you are taking, I can inform the relevant teachers that you'll be joining their classes, in about, oh, two days time." And he walked out the door.

Hermione stared weakly at the door where Professor Dumbledore had just exited. Her mind was still spinning with everything he had said and everything that had happened to her since she ran into the dratted corridor. She didn't even blink as Madam Pomfrey came bustling in and fussed around her, the coldness of earlier gone.

"Now, now," she instructed kindly, handing Hermione yet another potion. "Drink this up – it's a sleep potion. This should be good for you."

Hermione took it and drank automatically, not even noticing the sour taste. When exhaustion began to hit her in waves, she immediately closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

Love,

Hannanora-Potter

~x~x~x~


	3. In which we meet Groll

**Title:** Time is a Healer

**Summary:** Harry, Ron and Hermione are suddenly and inexplicably thrown into the Marauders' sixth year at Hogwarts. Delighted with this chance to meet his parents and reunite with the recently deceased Sirius, Harry soon starts to cut his ties for the future, leaving Ron and Hermione seriously worried. And what's the monster that's starting to stalk Harry?

**Timeline and Spoilers:** Books 1 through 5, at the beginning of Harry's sixth year aat Hogwarts (very beginning)

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and any related characters and setting are all the property of J.K. Rowling and not me.

**Extra:** '_blah_' = thoughts

**Chapter Three – In Which We Meet Groll:**

After two more days in the hospital wing, Hermione was ready to scream. All day long, nothing but the same white walls, with nothing to do. She had no one to keep her company and having left her bag behind in the Charms classroom, had nothing to read, either. All she had was the continual mutterings of Madam Pomfrey and that foul, evil-smelling blood-replenishing potion.

After the visit from the team from St Mungos – who seemed just as clueless as Madam Pomfrey – they had all decided to keep her here, 'under observation', as if something could happen in those two days that would shed light on the whole affair. But the truth was, Hermione had just cut her hand. All right, so said hand wouldn't stop bleeding, but what did they expect it to do? Start tap dancing whilst singing out the answer? After all this 'observing' all the various healers had decided was to just keep applying blood replenishing potion and see it that stopped it. Hermione could have told them that.

As it was, staring at these walls hour after hour was enough to drive her insane. All she could do was think – and they weren't nice thoughts. When she wasn't thinking of how she could die if she forgot to take her potion, Hermione was left to invent horrendous ways in which she could alter the future, just by being here. Had Harry and Ron found out she was missing? Did they know where she had gone? Tears trickled down her cheeks when she thought of her parents and friends – what was she going to do?

Sitting in the Great Hall now, Hermione began to wish she was back in the hospital wing. She had argued long and hard with Madam Pomfrey to let her go to classes – her theory was that if she had something to actually _do_, she wouldn't wake up in the middle of the night screaming.

It had been all right at first – no one saw her slip into the hall and she managed to find a space that was unoccupied. As she awkwardly spread jam on her toast one handed, she took to looking around the Hall. She could spy Lily Potter – no, _Evans_ - chatting animatedly to her friends, occasionally throwing a glare down the table at James, who just smirked at her and turned back to his friends. The Marauders were seated at the far end of the table, huddled together, engrossed in deep discussion. '_Probably planning some new prank_', thought Hermione, before promptly knocking over her Pumpkin Juice in shock.

She turned slightly red as a few people turned to look at her and used a napkin to try and mop up most of the mess. Inwardly she cursed herself. '_Of course, Pettigrew would be there,_' she scolded, exchanging her sodden napkin for another. _He's one of their best friends, he hasn't done anything yet.'_ But she knew, even as she followed that thought to it's conclusion that it would take all of her strength to be nice to the boy who would grow up to help Voldemort murder Harry's parents and place Sirius in Azkaban.

As she stared at Wormtail, trying to keep the murderous hate out of her eyes, a small 'ting-ting' at the teachers table made her look up. Dumbledore was getting to his feet, smiling and waiting for attention, which he got almost immediately. It was not often that the Headmaster made announcements at breakfast.

"Thank you," began to Dumbledore, twinkling eyes sweeping along the Hall, resting on her for a moment. Hermione felt a sudden surge of dread as she realised what his speech was to be about. "Now, I know this is a bit out of the ordinary, but today we have a student transferring from the recently closed Marchbanks School to join our sixth years. Her time with us is to be a trial run, before we start accepting more students from the recently closed schools. Please stand up Miss Granger." Hermione stood, feeling as though she wanted to sink into the floor as every face turned to look at her. "This is Miss Hermione Granger and she will be in Gryffindor House. Now," he added warningly, eyes resting for a while on the Slytherins, "I want you to treat her nicely and welcome her to our school. It is very important in dark times such as this for all of wizarding kind to pull together and work together to overcome our differences. Thank you." And he sat down.

At once, Hermione was surrounded by bustling Gryffindors, all asking her questions;

"Where did you come from?" asked a curly haired girl.

"Marchbanks, you dolt – didn't you listen to the Dumbledore?" snapped her friend – who had purple hair.

"Why did your school close?" asked a spiky haired boy.

"What are your parents like?" A pretty dark skinned girl wanted to know.

"What classes are you in?" pestered a boy Hermione recognised from the sixth year Charms class the other day.

"Er," began Hermione, unsure who to answer first – and what exactly to say.

"Hey!" snapped a slightly familiar voice – this one with authority. "Clear out and give her some space, why don't you?"

The crowd around Hermione cleared a little and Hermione tried not to jump as Lily Pot - _Evans_ - sat down next to her.

"Hi," she smiled, buttering some toast and grinning at Hermione. "I'm Lily Evans – we've kind of already met."

"Hermione Granger," Hermione replied a little tongue tied. What on _Earth_ was she going to say to someone who – as far as she was concerned – had been dead for twenty years?

Luckily for Hermione, Lily didn't seem to need much in a two-way conversation. She chatted to Hermione about who she was, her family, even her lessons as she munched her way through toast. Every now and then, Hermione thought about adding something, but just couldn't. She was half praying for some sort of interruption. Well, it was half answered.

"Hey, Evans."

Lily froze halfway through her rendition of her O.W.L.s and Hermione was blinked out of a wistful day dream.

James Potter slumped down into the space next to Lily. Hermione heard a similar thump next to her and looked round with a sense of foreboding. Sirius gave her a massive grin and proceeded to eat his toast, staring at her. Fidgeting slightly, Hermione turned back to Lily and James, who – she was most amused to see – were arguing.

"Go away, Potter," snapped Lily, glaring at James who only gave a sort of half-smirk. "Don't you know it's rude to interrupt people's conversations?"

"_Actually_, Evans, I wanted to greet Gryffindor's newest arrival," corrected James, turning to smile at Hermione, who tried not too blush even more – '_I seem to be permanently red, as of late,_' she thought, half-amused. "And that's not being rude, it's being polite," he added. "Hi," he introduced, "I'm James Potter and this is my girlfriend, Lily Evans and –"

"Potter!" cried Lily, who, like Hermione, was a deep crimson. "You conceited, arrogant..." Lily appeared lost for words.

"Yes, Evans?" prompted James, running his hands through his hair and giving the most heart wrenching grin Hermione had ever seen. However, it seemed to have no effect on Lily whatsoever, who just glared at him.

"I will never, ever go out with you, you big bully, even if you and I were the last people alive on the Earth!" yelled Lily, jumping to her feet. People were staring now. Hermione sneaked a look at Sirius to see what he was doing, but he was still grinning insanely at her. Hermione quickly looked away.

"Aw, Evans, come on," protested James, but he was too late. Lily was already storming out of the hall. James stared after her for a few moments, then tried to shrug it off, rolling his eyes. "Girls – just don't know what's good for them."

Loud laughter – loud, very _exaggerated_, laughter – was resounding from the Slytherin table. As Hermione looked over, she jumped again, and saw her second goblet of pumpkin juice splatter over the table. Laughing the loudest of all was a greasy haired, hooked nosed boy who grinned maliciously in James direction: Snape.

"What're you laughing at, Snivellus?" yelled James, but even Hermione could see James couldn't do anything. Not surrounded by teachers, anyway. So James, just sat back down, glared a few seconds, before turning back to Hermione.

Hermione, who had been caught up in the row earlier, suddenly realised she had made a mistake. The last thing she wanted to do was talk to teenaged versions of her ex-Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, her best friends dead father, the recently-deceased Sirius and the rat that betrayed them all. But what was she supposed to do? '_Help?_' she silently pleaded. '_Someone?_'

"So, Granger," began Sirius, twirling his wand between his fingers casually, "want to tell us the real story?"

"What?" snapped Hermione, shaking her now bushy hair over her shoulders. "What do you mean?"

"Ouch, it bites," grinned James, looking around at some girls at the Ravenclaw table and ruffling his hair again. The girls giggled and turned away.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Come _on_," he drawled, in a way Draco Malfoy would've been proud of. "You don't actually _expect_ us to believe that cock and bull story Dumbledore just fed us?"

Hermione went slightly pinker, but retorted, "Well, why shouldn't you? Why would Dumbledore lie? Besides," she added, only slightly blushing this time, "it's the truth."

Sirius noticed, however. "Ha!" he cried. "No it's not – you are the worst liar I have ever seen – well," he added, grinning thoughtfully, "except for Remus."

"I heard that," commented a soft voice and Hermione jumped again – but at least she didn't knock over her pumpkin juice. This time, her toast was flicked out of her hand and hit Remus Lupin in the face as he sat down opposite her.

Sirius and James burst into laughter as Lupin's face dripped butter. He too began to smile, as Hermione looked horrified. "Prof – umm, I mean, I'm...er...sorry!" she cried, holding her hands to her face.

"That's all right," said Lupin, giving her a boyish grin, as he wiped off the butter with a napkin. "I'm Remus, by the way," he added. "Remus Lupin."

"Hermione," replied Hermione. It felt ever so odd to being introduced to someone you felt you had known for the past three years. "Hermione –"

"Granger, yes we know," cut off Sirius impatiently, waving his large hands at her. "So, come on – spill!"

"Look," Hermione was getting irritated now, "there's nothing _to_ spill. I'm a transfer student from Marchbanks and that's it!"

Before she knew what she was doing she, too, had jumped to her feet and stormed out of the Great Hall.

James and Sirius looked at each other.

"Why do we only get to see the backs of girls?" complained Sirius, returning to his food.

"Dunno, mate," replied James, giving Hermione a thoughtful look as she swept round the corner. "Maybe it's just our way with women?"

"Maybe," agreed Sirius. "But the front is much more interesting than the back."

"Hmm," was James answer and then not much more was said, as more rounds of toast appeared on the table.

Remus, too, watched the point where the girl, Hermione had just exited. He could see what Sirius and James had meant earlier. Well, Sirius anyway. She was definitely hiding something. And, although he couldn't be sure, Remus had definitely seen a spark of recognition in her face as she spotted him. But from where?

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

Hermione had done no more than swept out the corridor than realised she didn't know where she was going. She didn't know what the password was for the Fat Lady, what her first class was, or even where her books were. She just stood in the Entrance Hall, not sure which way to turn. Several Slytherins walked by and laughed at her.

Just when she was resigned to going back into the Great Hall, she heard clattering footsteps and looked up the marble staircase to see Lily running down the steps and grinning at her in relief.

"I'm so sorry about earlier, Hermione," she panted, handing Hermione what she joyfully recognised as her own book bag. Lily shook out her long hair and smiled. "I was supposed to give you all this earlier" – and she handed Hermione a schedule – "but Potter just wound me up soo much." Hermione forgotten, she glared at the blank wall.

After a few seconds, Hermione timidly put forward an observation. "You seem to really hate him."

Lily jumped and flushed. "Well, not _hate_ him, exactly. He's just so god-damn immature and it drives me crazy. Him and Black, think they're so big, with all their pranks and hexing people all the time. It's just enough to make someone scream."

Hermione nodded sympathetically, but was a bit shocked to find out a) how much Lily seemed to hate James and b) how appallingly James and Sirius behaved. Like Harry had last year (although she didn't know about the Pensieve) she found out the hard way what an idiot James could be as Lily ranted and raved about how annoying he was and some of the pranks he played.

"Remus is nice," added Lily, almost as an afterthought. "So is Peter" – Hermione tried to repress a shudder at the name, but failed. However, Lily didn't notice – "but neither of them _do_ anything. Peter worships Black and Potter, but Remus is a _prefect_ and he should take his responsibilities more seriously!"

Hermione grinned slightly as she saw the prefects' badge glistening on Lily's robes. Remus sounded a bit like Ron, who, despite being pleased at being made one, didn't actually do anything _about_ it.

"What are you smiling at?" snapped Lily, spying Hermione's grin.

At the danger of her new – and only – friend, Hermione made something up on the spot. "Err, well, for someone who hates Potter as much as you say you do, you seem to talk about him in a lot." This came out in a bit of a rush. Hermione looked fearfully at Lily to see what she would do. To her surprise, Lily burst out laughing.

"Suppose I do, don't I?" she chuckled, shifting her bag on her shoulder. "It's just, well – he could be really good and he just wastes his talents. It's just – well, _annoying_."

"Why should you care?" asked Hermione, inwardly grinning. Like it or not, Lily liked James. And she also knew that in a few years, they would also be dead. Suddenly, Hermione's good humour faded. She knew this person was going to die and she could change all that. '_Tell her_,' whispered a small voice inside of her. '_Just do it – for Harry._'

But her experience with the time turner and basic common sense stopped her. She kept her mouth shut, knowing that she was condemning not only Lily, but James and Sirius to death.

"Hey, Hermione, you all right?"

Lily's voice interrupted Hermione's thoughts and brought her down to earth with an unpleasant bump. "Oh, sorry, Lily," she apologised, horrified to realise that there were tears on her face. "I was just remembering someone I used to know."

Lily nodded and still gave her funny looks but thankfully didn't push the subject further. The bell rang and both girls jumped. Lily looked at Hermione's scheduled and yelped. "Oh no – you've got double potions first!" she cried, and then dragged on Hermione's arm. Hermione suppressed a groan and then realised that Snape wasn't the teacher anymore – he was a _student_. If she remembered correctly, Slughorn was still teaching here at this time. Maybe she would actually enjoy this lesson.

In the meantime, Lily was still dragging on Hermione's arm. "Come _on_, Hermione," she groaned. "You _don't_ want to be late for Grolls' class."

"Groll?" repeated Hermione, confused, whilst obediently moving her feet. "What happened to – I mean, what sort of name is that?"

"Well, it's too much of a mouthful to say Grollingsworth all the time." Now Hermione was co-operating, Lily had let go of Hermione's arm for which she was grateful. Not only would her wounded hand keep bashing against Lily's bag, but Lily had a pincer tight grip. Both girls had broke into a run. "She's _awful_!" continued Lily, gasping slightly as they rushed down the dingy steps to the dungeons. "Our usual teacher, Professor Slughorn, is away this term – a potions master convention or something. So Groll has taken over his responsibilities – and she's simply terrible. If anyone but someone from her own house is even a _second_ late for her lesson she'll take away about fifty points!"

"What's her house?" panted Hermione, but she felt she already knew the answer.

"Slytherin," was Lily's distasteful reply. "By the way, that's a house to watch out for. Real nasty buggers, some of them."

They managed to dash in to the dungeon about half a minute before Groll and sat near the back. Hermione was amused to see that the Marauders – minus Peter and Sirius – were seated on the other side of the classroom from then. They couldn't have been taking this class. From what she'd heard about Peter, she wasn't surprised – he didn't seem the type to get good enough grades for this class. But Sirius was supposed to be really clever.

Professor Grollingsworth was a stick thin little witch with yellowish-white, pasty skin that made her look diseased. Her eyes were unnervingly like Snape's as they flashed dangerously around the dungeon. Her hair was long and black and gathered like an ominous cloud around her.

"Today, class, we will be studying the effects of truth serums." Hermione winced. Unlike Snape, who's voice was deadly quiet, Professor Groll had a very loud, high pitched voice that sounded like the orchestra Nearly Headless Nick had hired for his Deathday party.

Unfortunately for her, Groll noticed the wince and gave her an evil glare that Hermione was sure Voldermort would have been proud of. "Ah, yes, Miss _Granger_," she sneered, disdainfully, causing Hermione to blush even more. "Do you not like the curriculum I am offering here? Or would you rather leave the class?"

Hermione bit her lip. 'Why_ did I think this person would be better than Snape?'_ she thought, even as she replied. "I'm sorry, Professor."

Groll fixed her with another stare, before moving on. "In your partners, you will be, over the coming month, preparing a small sample of Veritaserum." She paused, and fixed Hermione with a nasty smile. "And that will be fifteen points from Gryffindor for your earlier insolence, Granger."

The Gryffindors suddenly all wore murderous looks and the Slytherins were sniggering. Hermione looked down at the desk, ashamed. She would have to watch herself really carefully in this class. Snape would seem like a fluffy Niffler after this horrific dragon of a woman. Obviously looks could be deceiving.

As Lily began to get out her ingredients – Hermione didn't have any anymore – she began to look down the instructions, Hermione felt some of her tension go. This was a horrendously complicated potion, but it wasn't that bad. After the Polyjuice in her second year, this would be a piece of cake. Plus, she had already studied this potion.

Suddenly, the door of the dungeon burst open and in came Sirius. His robes were a bit messed up and it was obvious he had been running. However, he still managed a cordial little bow, with much arm flourishing of the arms. "I am sorry for my tardiness, my dear Professor Grollingsworth," he apologised eloquently, grinning all over his face.

Hermione immediately decided Sirius had suddenly gone mad. '_What on Earth is he doing?_' she thought, frowning. '_Honestly! He'll loose us loads of points._' His mischievous eyes flashed around the classroom and rested on her. He grinned even more. She huffed indignantly. If Hermione didn't know better, she'd say that Sirius was doing that to impress her. '_What an idiot – as if anyone would be impressed with that._'

Groll had gone very stiff and glared at Sirius. "Fifty points from Gryffindor!" she snapped and there was a collective gasp. "Now get to your seat."

Sirius shot her a wounded look. "But I had to go to the Hospital Wing and pick this up for Miss Granger." So saying he held up a goblet of what Hermione recognised with disgust as her blood-replenishing potion. '_Why – oh._' She had forgotten to take it this morning.

Groll glared at him, but merely nodded. Not wanting Sirius any nearer to her than possible, a very red Hermione muttered, "_Accio potion_." And the potion flew into her hand.

"Now get to your seat, Black," snapped Groll, giving him a glare only equal to that she had given Hermione.

"Of _course_, my dear professor." And Black sauntered off to his seat.

"Well?" snapped Groll, resuming her glare of the class. "Get back to work."

As Lily and Hermione began the pretence of starting their potion, Lily whispered to Hermione. "What's that potion for?" she asked, eyeing it and wrinkling her nose.

"Umm just some medicine I need to take," replied Hermione, not wanting sympathy from someone who was going to live a very short life. "I forgot this morning. That was very nice of Si – I mean, Black to get it for me."

Lily snorted as she lit the fire under their cauldron. "I would be very careful about drinking that, if I were you," she warned, carefully measuring out dragons blood. "He never does something unless there's something in it for him. I wouldn't be surprised if he's added a little something to that potion."

Hermione also eyed the potion suspiciously. Sirius wouldn't have added something, would he? It didn't seem like him. But then, Hermione realised that she didn't know what sort of _him_ Sirius might be – at least, not at the age of 16. Especially not after what Lily had told him of James and Sirius idea of 'fun'. But she didn't really have a choice. So pinching her nose, Hermione downed the disgusting mess in one long gulp and prayed.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

"So, what is it?" asked James in a whisper as soon as Sirius sat down next to him. Remus considered himself too mature to gossip idly like a pair of giggling girls… but he did shift in his seat to listen better. What can he say? He was curious.

"A blood replenishing potion," hissed Sirius, watching Hermione talking to Evans. They both paused to break off and give him a suspicious glare. He quickly looked back to the other Marauders.

"What for?" asked James, confused.

"Her hand?" suggested Remus, turning around, looking over at Hermione, who had just swallowed the potion and was making a face.

"Must be," Sirius nodded.

"What do you –" began James, but was cut off by Groll's yell.

"You three!" she screeched. "Shut up and get back to work or I'll take another fifty points off of Gryffindor." The Slytherins sniggered, hoping for the three to argue, but enough points had been taken from Gryffindor again. Silently, they got back to work. Groll looked disappointed and swooped down on two Gryffindor girls and took 10 points away for talking – which neither had been doing.

Over at her desk, Hermione let out a quiet sigh. '_Some things never change,_' she thought.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

Love,

Hannanora-Potter

~x~x~x~


	4. In which we meet Mrs Timmy

**Title:** Time is a Healer

**Summary:** Harry, Ron and Hermione are suddenly and inexplicably thrown into the Marauders' sixth year at Hogwarts. Delighted with this chance to meet his parents and reunite with the recently deceased Sirius, Harry soon starts to cut his ties for the future, leaving Ron and Hermione seriously worried. And what's the monster that's starting to stalk Harry?

**Timeline and Spoilers:** Books 1 through 5, at the beginning of Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts (very beginning)

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and any related characters and setting are all the property of J.K. Rowling and not me.

**Extra:** '_blah_' = thoughts

_**Chapter Four - In Which We Meet Mrs Timmy**_

Harry and Ron were frantic now. It was almost midnight and they still hadn't found Hermione. When she hadn't turned up to Charms, they had been a little worried. Hermione missing a lesson was almost unheard of. So as soon as Flitwick had dismissed them for lunch they had headed up to the common room. But she wasn't there. Next they hit the library, but, again, no Hermione. They had even asked Madam Pince – the strict librarian – if she had seen Hermione at all today.

"No, I haven't," she had replied, before shooing them out of her library.

Next Ron had suggested that maybe – if she was as hungry as they were now – she would be in the Great Hall for lunch. So, off they'd trundled. But, Hermione wasn't there, either.

"Maybe we keep on missing her," suggested Ron as he looked up and down the Gryffindor table. Harry was amused to see that Ron was eyeing the food more than looking at the people. "You know, maybe she was in here first, but went off to the common room or library and we missed her."

"Suppose," agreed Harry, not entirely oblivious to the wistful note in Ron's theory: Ron was hungry. Well, come to think of it, so was Harry. "Let's grab something to eat and ask about a bit."

Ron grinned and immediately plonked himself in a seat near their fellow sixth years, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan. "All right?" Ron asked, before seizing on a chicken leg and stuffing it in his mouth.

Harry sat down next to Ron and grinned at Seamus and Dean. "Look, you guys haven't seen Hermione anywhere, have you?" he asked, taking a chicken leg for himself and a few rolls.

Seamus and Dean looked at each other. "No, sorry, Harry," said Dean, turning to watch Ron with some sort of horrified fascination. "Why – you lost her?"

"Ee diome tars," Ron explained – or rather attempted to. Harry was rather surprised that Ron had never choked before. Ron took another swallow. "Sorry – she didn't come to charms and now we can't find her anywhere."

"Why don't you ask Parvati and Lavender?" asked Seamus, buttering a roll. "Or Ginny?"

"Right, will do – thanks for your help," replied Harry and got to his feet, dragging an annoyed Ron with him.

"But _food_, Harry!" protested Ron, looking back at his plate.

"Shut up, Ron, we're only going to the other end of the table." Harry knew he was getting a bit too worried. Hermione was probably, er..._somewhere_ and she would turn up for their next lesson – transfiguration – no worries. Still, it never hurt to ask.

"Hey, Parvati," he greeted, letting go of Ron, who immediately pounced on a roll. "Haven't seen Hermione anywhere, have you?"

"Oh, no – sorry, Harry." It was Lavender that answered, turning around to frown at him. "Haven't seen her since breakfast. Why?"

"Because they can't find her – duh," snapped Ginny, from the other side of the table. "Hi, Harry."

"Hey, Ginny," said Harry trying his luck with her. "I don't suppose you've seen –"

"Nope," Ginny cut him off. "Relax, Harry, you know Hermione, she'll turn up for next lessons no problem," she reassured Harry. "Don't know why you're so worried, anyway."

"Well, it's hard not too," retorted Harry, feeling anger quickly rise to the surface, "what with Voldemort –" everyone around him jumped and glared at Harry – "running around, killing people everywhere."

"Harry, I'm telling you, Hermione's _fine_!" insisted Ginny, getting up from the table. "Besides, Dumbledore would _know_ if You-Know-Who was anywhere near by. And what would he have done? Run into the school under everyone's noses and kidnapped one muggleborn witch?" And she walked out of the hall.

Harry sat down and knew she was right. He was over-reacting, but he just couldn't bear for anymore of his friends to get hurt or killed. If she did die, it would be Harry's fault. It didn't matter is she had fallen off the roof, it would still be Harry's fault. Harry felt the guilt he had over Sirius' death weighing over him like a constant headache. Every little sound was him, every bark of laughter his – but when Harry turned around, he wasn't anywhere.

The prophecy didn't bother him nearly as much as his Godfather's death. The Prophecy was about him and Voldemort – no-one else. Harry could cope with that. He either killed or was killed – fine. But Sirius had died because of Harry. Despite Dumbledore's confession that it was all "his" fault, Harry felt like Dumbledore was trying to take the burden of responsibility off him somewhat. But he couldn't. Much as he would want to lay the blame on someone else, the consequences of his actions bore into his back constantly, like someone was drilling a hole to his very soul. Every waking hour his thoughts were plagued by what he could have done and the stupidity of what he did do. At night he either had dreams that Sirius was alive only to wake and fine it wasn't true, or relived his murder, again and again.

Dumbledore had thought that the summer would give Harry time to heal, get over Sirius' death. But he had made a very grave mistake. Harry had been all alone for the most part of the Summer holidays with nothing to do but sit and think and wonder. Seeing headline after headline in the Daily Prophet about Voldemort's victims only made it worse, somehow. The revelation of the prophecy had coupled together with the guilt over Sirius' death until there was no distinction. In every dead witch, wizard or muggle Harry saw Sirius' face. It had gotten better when he escaped to the Burrow – at least he had something to do, friends who occasionally made him forget. But despite the effort of the Weasleys, Hermione and even Dumbledore, Harry had not got over Sirius' death and the last thing he needed was another one of his friends to die. He just wanted to make sure Hermione was safe – that's all.

However, Hermione hadn't been in Transfiguration or Potions. Now Harry and Ron had begun to get seriously worried. She wasn't at tea either. Harry and Ron looked everywhere – the library again, all the classrooms, the hospital wing and even Hagrid's. They stayed out past hours, risking the wrath of Filch and their teachers to find their best friend.

Now, exhausted, yet panicking, they were slumped in their usual armchairs in the empty Gryffindor common room, staring at the seat that was usually occupied by Hermione. They were resigned to going to see Professor Dumbledore when Ron suddenly sat bolt upright. "Harry – the map!"

Of course – how could either of them have been so stupid! One look at the Marauders Map would instantly tell them where Hermione was. "I'll go get it, shall I?" asked Harry, but had already pelted up the boys staircase. Gingerly tiptoeing through his dormitory – so as not to wake Dean, Seamus or Neville – which was unlikely as they were all sleeping through Neville's enormous snores – he opened his trunk and took out what was clearly an old, blank piece of parchment and an old silvery cloak. He thought it best not to risk running into Filch when there really was no need.

Rejoining Ron in the common room, he placed his wand on the old parchment and whispered, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

At once, magical swirly writing flowed across the page, presenting the Marauders Map. As Harry scanned the now familiar layout of corridors and classrooms, his heart sank as he saw that a little dot labelled 'Hermione Granger' was nowhere to be found.

"She – she's not in the school?" stuttered Ron, bewildered. He looked up at Harry with what was undeniably fear in his eyes. "You don't think – not – not… You-Know-Who, Harry?"

But Harry was only half-listening. He had just noticed something odd, something he had never seen before. "Ron, what's that corridor?"

"Huh?" Ron peered back at that map. "What corridor?"

"There." Harry pointed it out and Ron stared. Harry knew what was so strange. Having owned the map for three whole years he would almost say that he knew the layout of Hogwarts off by heart, but this was a corridor he had never seen before. It lead from the staircases, in an almost perfect straight line, before veering into the Charms corridor.

"You don't think it's a secret passageway, do you?" asked Ron, excitedly, thoughts of Hermione gone out of his head. "I mean, I would swear to the Ministry that that's never been more than a straight wall before now."

"Maybe we should go check it out?" suggested Harry, trying not to grin at Ron. They both loved stuff like this.

"Yeah – oh." Ron's face fell. "What about Hermione?"

"Well, the corridor is on the way to Dumbledore's office," said Harry, thinking fast. "We could just – you know – pass through it."

Ron grinned again. "Alright."

As they set about draping the cloaks over themselves, Ron paused. "You do think she's alright – Hermione, I mean – cause if anything happened –" He voice trailed off.

"I'm sure she's fine," Harry said quickly, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. "Hermione's better at spells than the both of us put together – she'll be fine."

But as they headed out of the portrait hole, both couldn't shake off the uneasiness they felt inside and their step was quick and hurried as they set off for the staircases.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

"This," rang out Ron's voice, "is very weird."

Harry had to agree. They were standing in the hidden corridor – although it didn't really seem too hidden. They had jumped on some stairs, which had seemed to guess what they wanted and swung them obediently into the strange passageway.

Portraits and tapestries lined the wall, so that Harry's skin prickled with all the gleaming eyes watching him and Ron as they took off the cloak to survey their surroundings. The walls were bathed in moonlight, which in itself was weird, because there were no windows anywhere along the corridor. Instead, the very walls seemed to give off a pale light that was bright enough that Harry and Ron immediately whispered, "Nox," to their lit wands.

Taking the time to study their surroundings, Harry and Ron noticed something that Hermione – in her hurried rush – had not: the paintings were all of the same wizard.

He was a very old wizard – older even than Dumbledore. His skin was so wrinkled it looked as though someone had taken it and folded it, again and again. Beneath the creases of weathered skin, tiny, crinkled eyes watched the boys thoughtfully. The eyes gave Harry the shivers. They were like Dumbledore's, in the way that the gaze seemed to go right through you, penetrating your very soul. But, then again, they were completely different, for the gaze was neither warm or reassuring, but cool, hard and calculating.

Shuddering, Harry ripped his eyes away from the paintings and studied the tapestries. The tapestries, like the pictures, moved, but they seemed to be showing a never ending battle. Whilst countless wizards and witches fought below, two fought higher up than any of them. One Harry recognised as the wizard in the paintings. The other was hideous. It wasn't even human. It had completely black skin, which rippled and peeled as the huge claws hurled spells at the other wizard who hurriedly blocked them. The… well, thing's eyes glowed a powerful red and it's fanged mouth reminded Harry forcefully of a snake. He saw the creature's mouth open in a triumphant yell as it sucked something out of the wizard, who crumpled and fell to the floor. Harry didn't watch the rest: he looked away, slightly nauseous.

Ron was also looking at a tapestry. As Harry turned around, Ron made a sound – which faintly sounded like "Ugh" – and turned away, too. "Let's go, Harry," said Ron, throwing a disgusted look back at the portrait. Harry tried not to grin.

So they continued to walk down the corridor – not quite running, but not walking either. Neither was going to admit that the hangings had freaked them out. Each told themself that they were hurrying to tell Dumbledore about Hermione.

Suddenly, a statue loomed in front of them. Both of them skidded to a halt and stared at it. It was that damn wizard again. He was standing with his chin held high and proud. His robes were streaming behind him as they were caught in a strong wind. And in his hand he held a sword.

Unlike the rest of the statue, this sword was not made out of stone – it was real. It's silver blade shone in the non-moonlight and the sapphires that adorned the hilt twinkled merrily at him. And on the blade, there was something that looked uncomfortably like…

"Blood," whispered Ron, eyes wide looking at the red liquid staining the tip. "But – who's –"

"Hermione's," Harry answered, voice grim. He had just spotted something next to the statue. It was a small badge: a small badge, in which the letters S.P.E.W. stood out clearly. Ron saw where Harry was looking and blanched. Harry looked up at Ron and their eyes met – they had to get to Dumbledore - _now_! As though on a silent order, both of them at once began to sprint away from the statue.

"Oh, wait," cried Harry, coming to a stop. Ron crashed into him and they both fell over. "We should take that sword, as evidence."

"Aw, come on, Harry," moaned Ron, following Harry back nonetheless. "You're never going to pull that sword out. It's encased in stone, haven't you noticed?"

But Harry gave the sword a hefty tug, anyway. Nothing happened, so he tried again. Not even so much as a millimetre gave way. Ron was becoming a bit impatient.

"Here, let me have a go," suggested Ron and Harry moved to the side. But, unlike Harry, who had grasped the hilt, Ron moved in to grab the blade.

"Ron, NO!" Harry shouted and moved to pull him away, but it was too late. Ron let out a surprised, "Ow!" and let Harry pull him away. Ron's hand was streaming blood and Ron had turned so white that his freckles stood out like paint on wax.

"You idiot, Ron," snapped Harry, but only half-heartedly as Ron's hand was obviously hurting him a lot. Harry pulled out his wand and waved it over the wound, murmuring,

"_Cicatrisum coupli_!" Nothing happened. Frowning, Harry tried again. "Sorry, mate," he apologised to Ron, who was making a face at him. "Must be doing it wrong."

"S'Ok," grunted Ron, tearing a strip off a lacy tablecloth nearby and wrapping it around his hand. "Was a pretty stupid thing to do, anyway."

Harry pulled Ron to his feet and grabbed the cloak, reverting to staring at the statue. "I'm beginning to hate this guy," Ron confided in him, giving the statue a death glare. "He really –"

But Harry never got to find out what the wizard was. For at that moment an echoing whisper resounded all around them, stopping Ron in his tracks.

"_Tempus temporis hic medicor…_"

It was Sirius voice.

"SIRIUS!" yelled Harry and made to run back down the corridor, but got tangled in the cloak and Ron and fell. This time, _he_ was the one to receive a sharp slice from the sword, but he paid it no attention. _Sirius_ was nearby and all thoughts of Hermione had gone.

He roughly untangled himself and began to sprint back down the corridor as fast as his legs could take him. He could vaguely hear Ron yelling at him to slow down, but Harry wasn't listening. Where was Sirius? '_He can't be far,'_ Harry though desperately and began to run even faster.

He launched himself onto the staircase that was patiently waiting and began to leap down the steps, three at a time. He heard Ron land on the marble behind him and…wham! The staircase had begun to slide sideways and Harry, loosing his balance, tripped and rolled, crashing and banging down the steps to slam into the wall at the other end.

"WHAT'S ALL THIS NOISE?"

Uh, oh. Filch. Ron ran over to Harry, who was a little dazed from his rendezvous with the wall, and threw the cloak over Harry and himself just as Filch rounded the corner, accompanied by – '_Wait: that's not Mrs Norris_,' Harry thought, frowning. Instead of the mangy tabby with yellow eyes, this cat was a white and fluffy Persian, with ice blue eyes.

Harry vaguely began to wonder how hard he had hit his head when he saw this. The mere _thought_ of Filch with such a cat was enough to send Harry into fits of laughter. Ron hissed, "Shut _up_, Harry," as Harry began to shake with suppressed laughter. But Harry could see that Ron was trying not to laugh, too.

"Who's out of bed so late, my sweet?" cackled Filch, evilly rubbing his hands together as he looked lovingly at his pet. "If only it's Potter and his stupid friends – I'll have them this time, Mrs Timmy – they'll be expelled for sure!" He laughed again.

Mrs Timmy? Ron and Harry exchanged bewildered looks. What had happened to Mrs Norris?

"Come on out, Potter – I know you're there!" Filch screamed, eyes bulging like a madman as he surveyed the hall. "Don't try to hide from me!"

He and Mrs Timmy were now walking around the platform, with arms outstretched, almost as if they _knew_ about the invisibility cloak – which, Harry thought, was somewhat ridiculous… unless Snape had told him. '_Damn Snape,_' Harry thought, angrily. Whatever Snape may or may not have said, Filch and his cat were getting closer and closer to their hiding place and whether they knew or not, it would soon become pretty apparent when they fell right over them. Ron was furiously tugging on Harry's shoulders to get him to move, but Harry, slumped on the floor, felt as though his legs were made of lead and stayed where he was.

Just when Harry could see all the way down the back of Filch's throat and taste the fish on Mrs Timmys breath, a large cackling resounded above them.

Filch jumped and cursed, as did Mrs Timmy. "PEEVES!" he bellowed, shaking his fists at the poltergeist which just zoomed above his head. "I'll get you this time, YOU MANGY POLTERGEIST!"

As Peeve's evil cackles began to retreat into nothing, Filch and Mrs Timmy ran for the staircase and, eventually, disappeared out of sight.

Ron and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Harry felt as though he could kiss Peeves. He had just saved them from a _lot_ of detentions.

"Uh, Harry?"

Harry looked at Ron, grinning madly. Ron, however, was clearly very worried for his friend.

"Are you alright, mate?" Ron asked, tentatively. Getting only a giggle from Harry, he concluded that Harry had concussion – real bad concussion. Ron groaned. "Come on, we'll have to get you to the hospital wing." He dragged Harry to his feet and looked at him. "Oh, and if anyone asks, you fell down the dormitory stairs in the common room.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

"My goodness me, what happ – oh, it's you Potter," Madam Pomfrey realised with a sigh. "Took you long enough this year. What's it this time? A fight with some giant spiders maybe? Or perhaps one of your jokes backfired? Or maybe –"

"He fell, Madam Pomfrey," interrupted Ron, rolling his eyes. She might be an excellent nurse, but that didn't mean she didn't rant and rave at every opportunity.

"And you are?" asked Madam Pomfrey, taking her eyes of Harry and staring at him.

"Ron Weasley," said Ron, clearly affronted. He might not have been injured _quite_ as much as Harry during his years here, but he'd certainly been a resident of the hospital wing enough times to warrant the school nurse at least remembering his name.

"Ah, well, Mr Weasley, what were you doing when Potter fell, huh?" the nurse huffed, dragging Potter – no, _Harry_, Ron felt with a grin – onto the bed. "What are you smiling at?" she snapped, making Ron wipe away the though hurriedly.

"Nothing, nothing…"

Once they had gotten Harry onto the bed – which was not an east task, when the person in question thought you were giant gorillas – Madam Pomfrey forced him to drink down some really vile smelling potion.

Harry immediately sat bolt up right, vision cleared. "Sirius!" he yelled and tried to clamber out again.

But now Madam Pomfrey had had enough. She pointed her wand at Harry and snapped, "Back into bed, Potter."

"But – Sirius –" Harry protested, even as he sat back down.

"I'm sure he's _fine_, Mr Potter, and he will not thank you for waking him up at two o'clock in the morning!"

"But –" Harry began again.

"No buts, Mr Potter, or I will stun you!"

At this, Harry shut up.

As Madam Pomfrey bustled around sorting potions, she gave Harry some queer looks. "What've you done to your eyes?" she asked, then tutted. "It was probably some potion that went wrong, wasn't it - _that's_ why you decided to fall down the stairs – really! You think you would know better at your age!"

"I didn't _decide_ to fall down," began Harry, hotly, but then paused. "What about my eyes?" he asked, frowning.

"They're green."

Ron and Harry exchanged another _look_. "But, they've _always_ been green, Madam Pomfrey."

Another _look_ - this time it was from Madam Pomfrey. "Don't be silly boy – no they haven't."

"Yes, they _have_."

"No, they've always been brown, I remember."

"Well, you don't remember too well, because his eyes are green," pointed out Ron. There was a bit of a silence, in which a lot more _looks_ were exchanged. Finally, Madam Pomfrey shrugged. "Well, if you insist."

Madam Pomfrey gave Harry another nasty concoction, this one sending him swiftly into the land of nod. Madam Pomfrey tutted some more as she looked Harry up and down.

"_And_ he's cut his hand," muttered Pomfrey in faint disbelief that anyone could cause so much trouble.

It was only then that Ron became aware of the stinging and sickening pain from _his_ hand. He stifled a gasp as he looked down. Blood was still poring from it in droves, already seeping through his quickly made 'bandage'. Ron felt a faint roaring through his ears as he looked up to see Madam Pomfrey rushing over at him. But before she got there, Ron had fainted.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

Harry woke with a groan as his head began to ache. It felt as though someone had taken a hammer and was banging around the inside of his head. Harry opened his eyes, guessing where he would be.

The brilliant white walls of the hospital wing greeted him and Harry suppressed a groan. He'd been in here way too many times. Not that he was complaining about missing classes, but constantly being under the eye of the fussy Madam Pomfrey was extremely annoying. Plus, time alone meant more time to dwell about Sirius and Harry _wasn't_ going to do _that_.

"Harr-arry?" yawned Ron from the bed next to his. "Why are we here – oh, yeah. How are you feeling, mate?"

"Alright, but my head feels like it's about to explode," replied Harry, wincing as he turned it to look at Ron. "You?"

"Fine." Ron frowned. "Dunno why _I'm_ in here, actually."

At that moment Madam Pomfrey came in holding three different goblets. "Awake, are you?" she asked, disapprovingly. Harry had just opened his mouth to reply when she cut him off. "Drink this, Mr Potter," she ordered, thrusting one of the goblets under his nose.

Harry took it and a potent smell of rotten eggs washed over him. Taking a deep breath Harry downed the potion in one gulp and immediately his headache disappeared. As he put the goblet down on the cabinet next to him Madam Pomfrey handed him and Ron each one of the remaining goblets.

"Er, what do _I_ need this for?" asked Ron, screwing up his face in disgust. Harry privately agreed. The potion had an overpowering smell of dragon dung, which, in itself, was not the most pleasant odour.

Pomfrey tutted. "Your hand, Mr Weasley!" she exclaimed, motioning with her own – hands I mean. "You need to take this blood replenishing potion every few hours to top up your blood levels or you'll die!"

Harry, in the process of swallowing his potion, choked and managed to spray some of it over his bed. "Wh-WHAT?" he spluttered, staring, horror struck at the school nurse.

She tutted again, but this time it was more sadly. "Yes. I don't know _what_ you cut it on, but I can't stop it bleeding." She paused, waiting for this to sink in, before continuing. "You're the second people I've had in the last _week_ to have a cut like this. It could be an epidemic." Here she attempted a weak smile, but it failed somewhat. Harry and Ron were staring horror-struck at the nurse. "You'll have to be careful from now on – especially _you_ Mr Potter – I know what you and your friends are like," she cut over Harry's bleak attempts at protest. "I'm afraid this means no more Quidditch for you, either and you're going to have to be _very_ _careful_." She put as much emphasis as possible on the last two words and stared at them.

Ron was staring at Madam Pomfrey, mouth opening and closing in shock. He still had not drunk from the goblet. Harry was looking down at his potion splattered bed covers. '_No more Quidditch,_' he thought, feeling hollow inside. '_How am I _ever_ going to get the chance to destroy Voldermort if I have to be careful all my life?_'

"At the moment, you'll have to come to me before breakfast, at lunch and at tea," Madam Pomfrey told them, brushing her skirts down and waving her wand at Harry's bed. "_Scourgify_!" As Harry's bed cleared itself of blood replenishing potion, Madam Pomfrey turned to snap at Ron, "You'd better drink that up, Mr Weasley." Ron was still gaping like a goldfish.

As Ron took his potion, Harry ventured a question. "It will stop eventually – the bleeding I mean?"

Madam Pomfrey looked at him and sighed. "You know, my first patient asked me the exact same thing," she informed Harry sadly and shook her head. "And my answer to you is the same as I told Miss Granger – I don-"

"HERMIONE?" yelled Ron in shock, now spitting _his_ potion over the bed. "She – she was _here_?"

Madam Pomfrey jumped. "Well, of _course_ she was here," she snapped at Ron, "otherwise I wouldn't say so, would I?" She banished her frown with what looked like a huge effort and turned back to Harry. "_Anyway_, as I was saying, I don't know." Harry was suddenly aware of a great roaring noise in his head as this, too, sunk in. "Owls have been sent to your parents to inform them. I'll, well, leave you two alone then, shall I?" she asked, awkwardly, looking at the two of them.

As she left, Harry and Ron turned to one another. "I don't believe this," whispered Ron, he looked like he was going to pass out again. He groaned. "Mum will be disgusting at Christmas."

Harry could see he was trying to make light of the situation. Although he was failing miserably, Harry couldn't see the harm. He didn't want to dwell on this either. This meant the end of all his dreams for when he was older – no more Quidditch and he could pretty well kiss being an Auror goodbye. "Well, I had better come to yours for the holidays this year," he attempted to smile, "as knowing the Dursleys they'll manage to 'forget' to give me my potion and I'll die very slowly." Thinking about this he swallowed. Not a nice thought.

Ron tried to smile, too. "Yeah."

They sat in awkward silence for a while, not quite knowing what to say. After a few minutes, Madam Pomfrey bustled back in. "Now, you're well enough to go to classes – fourth period will be starting in a bit, so you can go to your common rooms and get your books."

Ron gave a groan and Harry suppressed a grin. He knew Ron had been hoping to get off classes. As they gathered their belongings – thankfully the invisibility cloak and the Marauders Map – wiped clean – were still there and they set off towards the common room, heads bowed in thought.

Madam Pomfrey watched them go. '_It's such a shame,'_ she thought with a sigh. '_That James Potter was always such a lively one and now look at him._' She sighed again and got back to her chores.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

Harry and Ron walked down the empty corridors, feet echoing against the stone walls. Neither of them talked. They just walked in silence.

'_How can this be happening?'_ thought Harry, despairingly. '_No more Quidditch? Blood replenishing potion every mealtime? This was going to put a nice end to his life,'_ he thought miserably.

Besides him, Ron was having pretty much the same thoughts. '_But, I only just got good at Quidditch,_' he protested feebly. '_This _would_ happen to me! Well, at least we know Hermione's – well, not ok, but at least she's not dead._'

They were just coming up to the transfiguration classrooms when the bell rang and students burst out from the door. Harry and Ron ignored them and carried on with their death's trudge to the common room.

"Hey, _Potter_!" came a yell from behind them. Malfoy. It had to be. As they slowly, almost resignedly, turned around, the voice sneered at them. "What's the matter, Potter, where's your arrogant, conceited ego today, huh?"

Usually these words would have made Harry extremely angry, but today he just wasn't in the mood. As he came face to face with his attacker, Malfoy yelled, "_Expelliarmus_!"

Harry was blasted off his feet but somehow – remarkably – he managed to keep hold of his jerking wand. Falling backwards, Harry yelled the first spell that came into his head. "_EXPECTO PATRONUM_!" As the silvery stag shot out of the end of his wand, Harry cursed himself for his stupidity. Landing on his injured hand he winced – that had _hurt_ - and rolled quickly to his feet.

Even though Harry's patronus had physically done nothing, it had had the desired effect of pausing his attacker. Unfortunately, it had also drawn a crowd who were muttering to themselves.

"Wow, look – Potter can do a patronus!"

"I never knew James could do that!"

"Snape's in for it now!"

Harry shook his head. James and Snape? So, maybe his head wasn't completely better. Harry turned to glare at Malfoy, but stopped in surprise. For his attacker really _was_ Snape. There was no denying that greasy, black hair, the hooked nose or the expression of hate that filled his black eyes. Harry was rendered speechless. He opened and closed his mouth to speak several times, but then realised that that was exactly what Ron, next to him, was doing and stopped. "Snape?" he asked, uncertain.

Snape glowered at him. "Never loose an opportunity to show off, do you, Potter!" he sneered and waved his wand to brandish another spell but Harry – even in a state of shock – was quicker. "_IMPEDIMENTIA_!" he bellowed and now it was Snape's turn to fall over backwards.

More and more students were arriving at the crowd and Harry briefly wondered where on _earth_ McGonagall was. They _were_ fighting right next to her classroom, after all. As the old crowd began excitedly telling the new arrivals what was going on, a black shaggy haired teenager stepped out grinning. "Want any help with Snivellus, Prongs?" he offered, raising his wand over his shoulder and turned to grin at Harry.

Then he froze. Harry froze. Even Ron froze.

But Snape, being the cold blooded creature that he is and taking no notice of all the freezing that was going on, decided to use the time to curse all three of them.

"_FURNUNCULOUS_!" he shrieked and silvery-blue light streaked out of his wand in a big wave.

Harry, with reflexes born of a seeker, instantly raised his own wand. "_Protego_!" An invisible bubble that formed in front of him sent the curse rebounding on the stone walls. People shrieked and hurriedly dashed out of the way. Ron, having been drilled _by_ Harry in the DA, also snapped out his wand, yelling the shield incantation. The black haired teenager was not so lucky.

With an indignant bellow of anger, the teenager fell over backwards, like Harry had done earlier. Only when this boy got to feet, his face, arms and neck were covered by a nasty looking eruption of blue-green boils. It was made worse by the fact that the boy's face was red with anger. "I'll get you for that, SNIVELLUS!" he yelled, raising his own wand. "_Petrificus Totalus_!" he shouted, quickly followed by, "_Wingardium Leviosa_!"

Snape was quickly caught in the full body bind before being yanked into the air. The boy twirled his wand lazily and Snape began to do loop the loops. He was looking slightly green already as the boy made him twirl in fast and furious circles. Quite a lot of laughter was building up now. Harry forgot his anger and laughed, too. "You know, Snivellus," the boy told Snape as he began zooming up and down the corridor, "just say the word and I'll let you down." There was a malicious gleam in the teenagers eye as he said this and even more laughter resounded through the corridor. Everyone knew you couldn't speak in a full body-bind. Snape's face pulled some rather horrible expressions as he glared at the boy, utterly powerless.

"What on _Earth_ is all this noise?" asked a shocked voice.

The boy jumped and Snape crashed to the floor. Harry turned to see Professor McGonagall glaring at them, in the act of coming out of her classroom arms full of parchment. Her eyes glinted dangerously and her lips were pressed together so tightly they had gone blue-white. Harry saw Ron swallow and privately agreed – McGonagall was looking to be in an awful temper. She cried, "Honestly!" in a fair imitation of Hermione, before snapping, "_Finite Incantatum_!"

Snape gave a small sort of groan and got to his feet, eyes already on the boy and Harry, the usual expression of hate seemingly intensified. Immediately Snape spoke up, his voice an awful whine that grated on Harry's ears. "It was _them_, Professor," he simpered, pointing at Harry, Ron and the boy. "I was just minding my own business, when _they_ came along and started hexing me." Harry opened his mouth furiously but a look from McGonagall stopped whatever retort he had been about to make. "And, of course, Potter never misses a chance to show off that grossly inflated ego he calls a brain and.."

"Snape," McGonagall said warningly.

"Oh, _sorry_, Professor," apologized Snape but sounding far from it. He glared hatefully at Harry and carried on.

By now, Harry was beginning to think something was a bit odd. First of all Snape looked, well, _younger_. True, his hair was as greasy as ever, but he was slightly fatter and just had that air of youth around him. Then there was the fact that he was talking to Professor McGonagall as though she was his teacher – '_which of course,'_ dismissed Harry immediately, '_is nonsense. Snape left Hogwarts _ages_ ago. But then why is he wearing the school uniform,'_ he thought uneasily, looking up and down Snape's regulation black cloak with the green and sliver tie that marked him as a Slytherin.

Very, very slowly – as though it was coming from far away – the truth was beginning to dawn on Harry. He and Ron stared with open mouths as the light of this situation dawned on them. They exchanged looks and Harry was just about to say something, when a squealing voice from the crowd stopped them.

"Harry? And _Ron_?"

It was Hermione. She had just pushed through the eagerly watching audience and was now staring horror struck at Harry and Ron. Her gaze flitted fearfully at Professor McGonagall, then Snape, the black haired boy and then over her shoulder. She gasped. "Oh, Harry, Ron! We have to get _out_ of here!" she cried and dashed forward and began pushing them down the corridor. With faint surprise Harry felt his feet sliding and slipping on the polished stone floor. Hermione was obviously much stronger than she looked. "Oh, come _on_, Harry – hurry up!" she moaned fretfully. Her eyes were wide as she looked over her shoulder.

"Hermione!" Ron muttered, twisting over his shoulder at the rapidly retreating scene as he, too, slid along the floor. "What do you think you're _doing_?"

"Just move!" she hissed back and pushed even harder. "Quickly before… oh, just move!"

Unfortunately for Hermione, however, Harry was much stronger than her. "I WANT TO SEE MY _GODFATHER_!" He roared and pushed past her, disbelief etched on his face as began to slowly walk back to Sirius who was giving him a funny look. He had to walk slowly because Hermione was still latched onto his arm, pushing and pulling.

"Hey, what's all the fuss?" laughed another voice from the crowd. The gathering students suddenly broke into excited whispers and parted for the brown eyed boy that stood there. He had messy black hair and small black glasses. His hand fiddled with a small snitch that Harry knew was in his robe pocket. His eyes widened as he surveyed the scene and small smirk lit his face as he saw Snape clutching his wand. He smiled even more as he saw Sirius. "Padfoot – why didn't you come get me, eh?" he asked, grinning. "We could have had some fun."

Sirius didn't say anything back and the new boy frowned a little. He looked around at everyone else in the corridor – they were gaping at him too. Even McGonagall's mouth was slightly ajar. Then the boy's eyes lit on Harry and he swore softly.

Harry knew why everyone was gaping. He could feel more than see Ron staring at the new boy and hear Hermione's small mutterings of "Oh dear – how typical," even as she pulled half-heartedly on his arm.

The boy was his father.

James Potter.

Who was dead.

'_So, this is a bit weird,_' thought Harry faintly before blackness hit him.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

Love,

Hannanora-Potter

~x~x~x~


	5. In which a Howler arrives

**Title:** Time is a Healer

**Summary:** Harry, Ron and Hermione are suddenly and inexplicably thrown into the Marauders' sixth year at Hogwarts. Delighted with this chance to meet his parents and reunite with the recently deceased Sirius, Harry soon starts to cut his ties for the future, leaving Ron and Hermione seriously worried. And what's the monster that's starting to stalk Harry?

**Timeline and Spoilers:** Books 1 through 5, at the beginning of Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts (very beginning)

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and any related characters and setting are all the property of J.K. Rowling and not me.

**Extra:** '_blah_' = thoughts

**Chapter Five: In which a Howler arrives**

"Harry! Harry!"

Someone was slapping his face - _hard_.

What was he doing on the floor, anyway? He thought for a second it was Voldemort again, but his scar wasn't hurting him. Strange…nowadays, his scar was always constantly prickling, occlumency lessons or no. Confused and slightly dreading what was going to happen, Harry opened his eyes.

Hermione was crouched over him, brown eyes wide with worry and glistening with tears. It had been she who was slapping his face. Now her hands were up by her face as she nervously bit her fingers.

"'Mione…" he groaned, struggling to sit up. His head was swimming. "What on Earth is – "

He stopped with a moan as Hermione quickly pushed him back down – the stone was hard. "Not now, Harry," she whispered, nervously and looked over her shoulder. "Later."

Harry frowned at her. She didn't seem worried for _him_ - what was going on? "Her_mione_," he began again, this time angrily. He propped himself up and tried to peer over Hermione's shoulder.

"Not _now_, Harry, please!" hissed Hermione, once again looking over her shoulder as Harry strained his neck. Her eyes were wide and frantic. "You don't _understand_, you can't – "

But it was too late, as Harry let out a gasp.

Standing in the hallway were two black haired teenaged boys, both looking over at Harry. One of the boys had longer hair which was cut to fall handsomely into his grey eyes as he watched Harry with a sort of disbelieving expression that was rapidly becoming a grin as he kept looking at the boy next to him.

The boy next to him was the exact copy of Harry but with deliberate mistakes. This copy had brown eyes, instead of the brilliant emerald-green that Harry's were and there was no scar on his forehead. But, other than that, they were identical.

As memory came back in an unpleasant roar, Harry finally managed to whisper, "Dad? Sirius?"

James Potter and Sirius Black gave each other startled looks and Harry heard Hermione give a faint groan, but she quickly covered it up. "_Dad_?" she repeated incredulously, though Harry could see that her hands were shaking. She gave a funny sort of head laugh. "Oh dear, Harry – you must of hit your head harder than I thought." Although she said this in an amused tone, Harry couldn't miss the pleading look in her eyes. "You're delirious!"

James and Sirius, however, still looked highly sceptical, and Ron wasn't helping matters much. He was still standing where Harry remembered and was still gaping, mouth opening and shutting as he stared at his best friends' dead father and godfather.

"JA-J-James P...Potter?" he spluttered in disbelief. All Ron's freckles were standing out like blobs of paint on a wax doll now, he was so pale. "Sirius? B-Black?"

After throwing a quick puzzled look at Harry and Hermione, who now had her hands clamped firmly over Harry's mouth, Padfoot and Prongs dissolved into grins.

"Told you, James," commented Sirius, drawing himself up proudly. "We're _famous_."

"Course, course," grinned James, now waving his hand at the buzzing crowds like Royalty. "Always so _nice_ to meet our fans," he added to Ron, walking up to him and holding out a hand. When Ron simply stared at the hand as though he had forgotten what it was, James frowned slightly. However, not one to be put off, he pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill. "Autograph then?"

"JAMES POTTER!" shrieked a female voice and a girl pushed her way out of the crowd and proceeded to glare at James. "I don't _believe_ you sometimes. Why, pray, would anyone want _your_ autograph, you unprincipled, bigheaded, conceited, egotistic Lord of Chaos!"

"Lord of Chaos?" murmured James, thoughtfully, a dreamy grin forming as he turned to the girl. "Awww, Evan's – you're flattering me! And I didn't know you cared – shall we make it six or seven?"

Evans just made an indistinct noise as Sirius rolled his eyes and spoke to a faint Ron out of the corner of his mouth, "Nutter. Completely in love, the pair of them – both too foolish to admit it."

Unfortunately, Evans and James both heard. "Ex_cuse_ me!" gasped Evans, indignantly, now turning her death's glare to Sirius. "I am NOT in love! Especially not with Potter!"

At this James looked hurt. "But, Lily, darling," he protested, reaching to take her arm, but missing. "You were just expressing your true feelings for me. How can you deny what the stars have written for us?"

"The stars?" repeated Evans, cheeks going red with anger. "James Potter, I will _never_ go out with you, as long as I live – going around cursing everyone just because you can! I think it's disgusting! What on Earth have you done to this boy?" She gave Harry a quick glance and Harry felt as though he was going to faint again. His parents – here, together with Sirius. He didn't know how, but he didn't care – he could still be with Sirius!

And his parents. He had never really known his parents, but look – here they were. But it had to be a dream, didn't it? He thought uncertainly. Well, dream or not, he _certainly_ wasn't going to waste this time sitting uncomfortably on the floor with Hermione's hands around his face. He struggled to push Hermione off himself.

"I did _nothing_ to him!" James retorted hotly, acting as though the very idea repulsed him. "How could you think that I would do such a thing, Evans?" He gave her a wounded look.

Lily turned slightly red at this, but was not abashed. "Well, you can hardly blame me, Potter," she snapped, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face to stop James from doing it. She glared at him a bit more, before turning to Hermione and Harry.

"Hey, Hermi – what the…?" she broke off, staring with wide eyes at Harry.

"Err, hi, Lily," greeted Hermione, awkwardly. She tried to get to her feet, but her hands were still clamped over Harry's mouth. She turned back to Harry and whispered tentatively to him. "Harry, you need to trust me." She searched his face for reassurance. Harry was suddenly hit by waves of exhaustion. It was just too much. He nodded.

Taking her hands off Harry, Hermione got to her feet and turned to face her three – dare she say it - _friends_? "Umm, well, these are my friends Harry and Ron from Marchbanks," she explained, twisting her hands behind her back. "They'll be transferring to Hogwarts – well, have," she added dryly, regarding her friends. Ron was now staring at her, which was not much better than before. Hermione shot him a _look_ and he gave her a miniscule nod.

Swallowing, he introduced himself. "Yeah, hi, I'm Ron Wea –"

"Wesley," interrupted Hermione loudly. Sirius, James and Lily – all of whom were looking highly sceptical at this point – turned to stare at her. Hermione blushed even more, but continued. "And this is Harry Potter."

Everyone looked a little shocked at this and stared at Hermione and Harry in turn. James got a fair amount of searching glances as well. Sirius was the first to recover.

"Excellent!" he cried, pounding James on the back, so forcefully that James choked. "Sorry," he apologised quickly as James gave him a glare. But Sirius didn't look very sorry. In fact he was grinning from ear to ear in a way that reminded Harry forcefully of Fred and George. "What didn't you _tell_ us you had a twin, eh, Prongs?" he exclaimed excitedly. Harry thought he probably would have danced around in delight if it were not beneath him. "Think of all the jokes we could play!"

"Oh, they're not related," interrupted Hermione quickly, fidgeting slightly as she lied again. "He's a muggle born – Potter's quite a common muggle name you know."

Now Ron had resumed his goldfish impression at Hermione and Harry was just damn well confused. Everyone was giving them suspicious gazes and Harry was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

But, just as James opened his mouth to speak, they were saved by another unexpected source.

"WHICH ONE OF YOU PUT THAT SILENCING CHARM ON ME?"

Everyone jumped and turned hurriedly.

Professor McGonagall – whom everyone had forgotten about – was turning beet red in anger and her mouth was now a blue-purple, she was pressing the lips together so tightly. "JAMES POTTER!" she bellowed and red sparks actually shot out the end of the wand she was waving dramatically at the little crowd. "HOW _DARE_ YOU DO THAT TO ME! 50 POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR AND DETENTION FOR 3 WEEKS!"

James paled visibly. "3 weeks?" he repeated, before trying on some of his charm. "Aww, come on Professor – what about Quidditch and all? It was only a little fun!"

"4 WEEKS – AND NO QUIDDITCH UNTIL I SAY SO!" she added, furiously. She was certainly on a roll.

"Don't be an idiot, James!" hissed someone from the crowd.

"Shut up! She'll just make it worse," added another.

"Swallow your pride for once, James – don't let her chuck you off the team!"

"No – go on, James," someone sneered, unpleasantly. "Carry on this way and Gryffindor will have no points left – and that _would_ be a shame, wouldn't it!"

James opened his mouth to snap back at the last, but stopped himself, after another look at McGonagall.

"What on Earth is all this commotion?"

Everyone jumped again and Harry sighed in relief. The voice was Dumbledore's. And the Head Master sailed majestically into sight, purple robes adorned with glittering moons and stars. He gave the crowd a piercing gaze, but his eyes twinkled as he noticed James and Sirius. "Ah – I see. The Marauder's strike again."

He stopped abruptly when he caught sight of Hermione and, more precisely, her companions. "Miss Granger, if you would like to follow me and you too, Mr's – ah, what were the names, again?"

"Potter and, er, Wesley," answered Harry, stealing a glance at Ron who was looking even more horrified than ever that Dumbledore didn't know who he was. But Dumbledore had already started sweeping back down the corridor and they weren't really going to object. Hurrying after Professor Dumbledore, Harry felt the students' stares on their backs as McGonagall started ordering people back to class.

Although they were quite far away, Harry was sure she had heard Professor McGonagall murmur to James, "And ten points to Gryffindor – that was an _excellent_ silencing charm, Mr Potter."

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

"And, remember – not a word," finished Dumbledore, shooting them a sympathetic smile. "I know it'll be hard on you, but have faith. We'll find a way to get you home."

Realising Dumbledore had finished, the three friends trailed out of his office in mild shock. As they walked down the stairs not a word was said. Hermione kept shooting the other two worried looks, but didn't say a word.

For this, Harry was grateful. His head was a roaring blank. He couldn't really focus on the current problem and didn't know how to feel. Happy? After all, he was going to be with Sirius again. And he would get to really know his parents – James and Lily. But then, that brought him back to the reason why he was so glad to be with them – they were dead. Living here, seeing them every day and knowing what awaited them in the future but not being able to tell them – it was going to kill him!

At the first opportunity, Hermione pushed Ron and a dazed Harry into an empty classroom. But she didn't say anything. Instead, it was Ron who opened the conversation.

"So, it's true?" he asked, hoping it was just a big trick. "We're…I mean, we've…"

"Yes, Ron," sighed Hermione, almost wearily. "We've gone back in time. You, me and Harry are here, at Hogwarts, in the Marauders Sixth Year."

Ron opened his mouth to reply, but couldn't find anything to say, so shut it again. Hermione gave Harry a worried glance and continued. "I've been here a week already and – "

"A week?" interrupted Ron. "But you'd only been gone a few hours when Harry and I went looking for you!"

"It's _time travel_, Ron," Hermione snapped, although only half-heartedly. "I don't think it matters how long _I've_ been gone."

There was another awkward pause. "How…how long do you think it will take?" asked Ron, tentatively, as if he was scared of the answer. "To find a way back, I mean?"

Hermione shook her head, sadly. "I don't know," she answered honestly. "I'm sure Dumbledore is doing all he can and I've been researching in the library every chance I've got, but it's, well, near on impossible. Do you have any idea how many books there are in the library?"

Harry looked at Hermione closely for the first time. She had dark bags under her eyes and her eyes were slightly bloodshot. "Hermione, it's not going to be there," Harry pointed out, trying to push away the part of him that was glad about this. "If there was a book that told someone how to time travel on public display, someone would have done it before."

But Hermione refused to listen. "Nonsense," she protested, hotly. "No one actually reads _all_ the books in the library" – "Except us," muttered Ron to Harry, both seeing where this was going – "and we're just going to look till we find the right book or spell."

Harry and Ron gave loud, audible groans, but Hermione seemed to be off in her own little world. "I wonder if the wizard has anything to do with it?"

"What wizard?" asked Ron at once.

Hermione jumped slightly, she seemed to have forgotten they were there. "The wizard that statue was of," she answered, before running her fingers through her bushy hair. "But, I was in such a _rush_!" she cried, suddenly, this time making Harry and Ron jumped. "I can't even remember what he looked like, let alone who he _was_! Arrghhh!" She complained, exasperated.

"Well, we got a good look," offered Harry. Ron gave a supportive nod. At once, Hermione rounded on him.

"_What_!" she exclaimed, excitedly. "And you didn't _tell_ me?"

Harry was about to point out that they hadn't exactly had much of a chance, when Hermione babbled on.

"Well, what did he _look_ like?" she asked, fidgeting on her feet. "Oh, what was his name? Who _is_ he?"

Over Hermione's shoulder, Ron rolled his eyes. "Well, I don't know, _exactly_," answered Harry, preparing himself for an outburst. Sure enough Hermione's face darkened. Harry rushed on before she could yell at him. "I mean, I don't know what his name was, but we got a good look at him. Didn't we, Ron?"

Ron glared at Harry, but his face quickly turned into a forced smile as Hermione turned to look at him. "Well?" she pestered. "What did he look like?"

"Ummm…old?"

"RONALD WEASLEY!" she yelled, frustrated.

"Wesley," corrected Harry.

Hermione turned to give him a death glare too. "You're just as bad," she snapped angrily. "Can't you remember _anything_?"

"Well, there was this weird tapestry with this wizard dude fighting this weird big doggy thing," supplied Harry. Ron nodded eagerly.

"Yeah – and the doggy won," he added, pulling a face. "A bit graphic though. Weren't too…_tasteful_," he finished, throwing Harry a smirk.

"A dog?" repeated Hermione, frowning.

"Dog _thing_," corrected Ron.

"Know anything about it, Hermione?" asked Harry. '_Please say no. _What_? No! I belong in my time – I _have_ to go back._' But then a new thought came to Harry. '_What if I don't _want_ to?_'

Meanwhile, Hermione frowned even deeper. "No…" she started slowly, but trailed off and shrugged her shoulders wearily.

There was a pause in which Ron and Harry exchanged looks. Hermione was lost in thought. Finally, Harry brought up the question he had been thinking about most. "So, what're the Marauders like?"

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

Hermione had been having a horrible week. As they always were for Miss Granger, her lessons had been the highlight of her week. Sixth Year was hard, but not impossible and she had already studied all the spells and potions they were supposed to be doing. However, for once in her life, Hermione was finding she had competition for the position of 'smartest student in the school'.

What was so annoying about James Potter and Sirius Black, though, was not that they _were_ smart, but more of the fact that had never studied or even tried hard to be what they were. They would just wave their wands and immediately their hands would turn into pincers, or one of them would become a very small mouse and hold up the next fifteen minutes as it ran around the classroom, squeaking.

Hermione sighed as she froze the mouse Sirius, as it began to crawl up an unsuspecting Hufflepuff girl's leg. Some things never changed.

Luckily for her, the 4 Marauders seemed to be keeping out of her way. This, she had to tell herself, was a very good thing. How would she be able to talk to her old DADA Professor, her best friends dead father and godfather and the slow-witted, damn rat that had betrayed them all.

Still, she found that talking to Lily wasn't that hard. Probably because it didn't involve too much conversation on her part, or that Lily wasn't the spitting image of Harry. Maybe it was because she was a girl, slept in Hermione's dormitory or simply because she wasn't an unpredictable prankster.

Still, every now and then, she looked up to see Sirius looking at her. Every time she caught his eye, a hot flush rose in her cheeks and shivers rippled down her back. Sirius' gaze was unnerving.

As she began to turn the pages of an old, thick dusty book in the library one evening, looking for anything on time travel, Remus Lupin came up to her.

"Hello, Hermione," he said, hovering over her shoulder as she scanned the page fruitlessly. _'Potions to help cure travel sickness…the simplest way to reduce the discomforts of travel._' She sighed. This was getting her nowhere.

"Erm, Hermione?"

Hermione jumped. She was so engrossed in her work that she hadn't noticed Lupin standing by her. "What? Oh, hello, Lu – er, Remus."

He stared at the huge piles of old books that surrounded her. "What are you doing?" he asked, frowning. "Surely this isn't all for homework?"

"No, no, no," Hermione dismissed, absently waving her hand at him as she turned over another page. "This is, well, just a little project of mine, you know? One can never be too prepared."

"For what?" asked Remus, confused. "You seriously think teachers are going to test us on" – he lifted up the front cover of the book Hermione was flicking through – "the '_Nitty, Gritty Problems of Magical Travel_'?"

"What?" asked Hermione looking up. "Oh, no," she reassured Lupin, in a highly put on cheerful voice. She plastered a very fake smile across her lips. "That's just for, you know, the apparation tests and floo powder – for when I'm older."

"Right," said Remus, although Hermione knew he didn't believe her. "Well, see you later, Hermione." And he walked off.

Hermione breathed a slight sigh of relief, but that feeling was short lived. She knew exactly why Remus had come up to her and where he had gone to know. He was spying for his insufferable idiots, the Marauders.

Hermione cut off her annoyed thought almost immediately. How could she think of them like that? Didn't they deserve some fun, the lives they were about to lead? '_Or not,'_ she thought again, which was much more applicable. Blinking tears away from her eyes, she set about reading again.

That was what her whole week had been like. Endless studying and research, interspersed with precarious visits from one of the famous – '_or should I say_ infamous_?_' she thought with a grin – four. She felt very proud of herself for dodging all their awkward questions. Mind you, she had had enough practice with Ron.

But all of her hard work had almost been put to waste when Harry and Ron had arrived. She had just _known_ that they would do something stupid. To be fair to them, they hadn't done anything nearly as disastrous as she had imagined, but still…it was only a matter of time. Hermione felt another wave of exhaustion hit her as she realised another burden added to her by the arrival of her closest friends. She was going to have to watch them like a hawk, especially Harry. Heaven knows what he would say to his parents or Sirius when her back was turned…

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

As soon as Dumbledore sat down, the Marauders hunched over the table to talk more closely.

"So," asked James, "what do you think?"

"Don't believe it for a second," replied Sirius at once.

Besides him, Remus nodded. "I don't know why they're here, but Dumbledore seems to be giving a nice cover story for them," he said, looking over and frowning at the Harry, Hermione and Ron, all who seemed to be surrounded by a surge of Gryffindors.

"It just doesn't add up," agreed James, thoughtfully chewing on a bit of peppered steak.

Sirius nodded absently. "You remember how it took us weeks to know our way around the castle? But there they all are, just wondering around as though they knew exactly where they were going," he said, twirling his fork in his large hands.

"Yeah, that is weird," James agreed, thinking. "She was lying," he commented suddenly, after a lapse into thoughtful silence.

"Who?" asked Peter eagerly. He loved mysteries of any kind, but wasn't very good at piecing together the pieces – unlike his friends. "Hermione?"

"Yeah. That boy, Ron – he was about to say something different when Hermione stepped over him with a different surname," explained James, ruffling his hair and glancing hopefully down the table at Evans, but she was engrossed in her conversation with another girl and did not seem to notice. James turned back to the conversation with a sigh.

The others shot him an understanding look when Lupin continued the conversation. "And did you see Harry and Ron's face when she said that Harry was a muggle-born?" asked Remus, laughing slightly as he poured himself more pumpkin juice.

Sirius and James grinned, but they were still deep in thought. "But _why_ would they lie?" asked Sirius, back to playing with his food. "I mean, there can't be any reason big enough that they have to hide their real identities, can there?"

James slowly grinned. "Maybe they're secret spies for the Ministry!" he suggested enthusiastically.

Sirius rolled his eyes at his best friend. "_Prongs_."

"What?" asked James innocently.

Sirius rolled his eyes again. "Well, if you want to go find some three year olds to play with, then we can continue with the grownups discussion here?"

"Who's grown up _here_, Padfoot?" retorted James. "I seem to remember a certain someone placing magical super glue to the girl's toilets only five months ago! That's not exactly mature, is it, my good friend?"

Sirius looked like he was going to answer back, but then his eyes went all dreamy at the thought of his last prank. "Yeah – that was a good one. Entirely worth the two months of detention I suffered." He sighed contentedly and stared up at the ceiling, which was setting in a twirl of twilight blues and purples.

This time it was Remus who rolled his eyes. "Can we get back to the subject at hand, please?" he asked tentatively.

James paid attention immediately, but it took a hearty kick in the shins synchronised with a goblet full of pumpkin juice to get Sirius to pay attention.

"Hey!" he protested, eyes blinking as his face dripped pumpkin juice. "What was that for?"

Everyone ignored him and just carried on the conversation. "Did you notice they recognised me and Sirius?" asked James, leaning over to talk to Remus better. "They even knew our names, but I swear that I've never met them before in my life."

Remus nodded slowly as he thought about things. "I think Hermione recognised us, too," he added, cutting a slice of steak with his knife. "I reckon that was why she managed to flick her toast at me. She doesn't seem like the jumping type." Having finished his theory, he got back to work on eating his steak whilst the other's pondered this.

"Yeah," agreed Sirius slowly after a while. "I agree with you. She knows us, they all do. But from _where_?" he asked, frustrated, absently stabbing his already battered steak. He turned to stare at the three. As always, Hermione seemed to sense his gaze and looked up at him, before blushing and furiously studying her dinner plate. Sirius sighed and wondered why she wouldn't talk to him. Hell, she couldn't even _look_ at him.

Noticing his friend's dilemma, no doubt, Harry looked up and met Sirius' gaze. A series of emotions flashed across his face before he, too, looked away. Sirius frowned even more at this. Pain and sorrow and anger – oh, yes, a _lot_ of anger – had greeted him when he looked at the boy. And were those tears in his eyes?

As Sirius began to turn back to his friends a sudden outbreaks of whispers whipped like wildfire around the school. The 4 Marauders looked wildly around to see why and froze as an unpleasantly familiar owl swooped high over the tables and landed in front of James. A red envelope was attached to it's leg.

James swallowed and tentatively plucked the red howler off the owl's leg. Everyone was staring in anticipation at the small envelope. Most of the students watched it with something between fright and smothered amusement. The Slytherins, however, were openly rejoicing and looking very cocky.

"Go on, James," encouraged Remus, eying the envelope like a bomb. "Just open it and get it over with."

Still, James did nothing.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Prongs!" growled Sirius, impatiently, and wrenched the envelope from James' numb grasp and ripped open the envelope.

A second later, he really wished he hadn't.

A huge roar of anger filled the Great Hall, rattling the tables and chairs, let alone the students themselves. Everyone immediately clapped their hands over their ears to try and lessen the assault on their eardrums. Sirius would have joined them but, unfortunately, the exploding envelope had set his wizarding robes on alight and he was having enough trouble trying to extinguish the fire.

Unfortunately, being deafened by the screech that was making him feel queasy, Sirius couldn't exactly hear what spells and curses he was yelling and this was confusing him no end. He had already managed to give himself boils, grow a tail and sprout horns that puffed out dark blue smoke before one of his so-called _friends_ noticed his predicament and decided to be useful and help him out.

What actually happened was that Sirius became very wet and suddenly found himself to be not the only one with smoking horns.

Meanwhile, the screamer had suddenly found a new method of expressing her outrage – speaking.

"JAMES POTTER!" She shrieked – it was definitely a she now – or maybe a house elf. "YOU IDIOTIC BOY! HOW COULD YOU BE SO STUPID AS TO GET YOURSELF MORTALLY INJURED LIKE THAT?"

Here the four Marauders looked at each other in sudden surprise. What _was_ the woman talking about?

"OH, YES, I'VE BEEN TOLD ALL ABOUT IT! AND I JUST WANT TO ASK WHAT IN MERLINS' NAME YOU COULD POSSIBLY HAVE DONE TO GET A CUT THAT WON'T STOP BLEEDING? NO. WAIT – I'VE CHANGED MY MIND!

Now James was really confused. He hadn't cut his hand – what was his mother on about? He hadn't cut his hand.

"I COULDN'T BELIEVE IT! MY ONLY BOY! MY POOR BABY!"

The woman was breaking down into racking sobs by now and James turned red as his friends managed to give him a sly grin. He was _never_ going to live this down!

"I WANT YOU TO REALISE HOW SERIOUS THIS IS! IF YOU DO ONE MORE DANGEROUS THING THIS YEAR I'LL PULL YOU OUT OF HOGWARTS! I _MEAN_ IT! AND _NO MORE PRANKS_. I WIL NOT HAVE MY ONLY BABY BLEEDING TO DEATH AND I'M BANNING YOU FROM WHATEVER ACTIVITY _YOU_ SEE AS FUN! I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE LIKE, JAMES POTTER! AND NO MORE QUIDDITCH, EVER AGAIN!

There was a long silence after this and many students looked relieved, but the infamous red envelope had not ripped itself up and burnt yet, so James was still as tense as ever.

With a last sob, James' mum finished her fit in a somewhat gentler tone than before. "Just be careful, ok, and I'm sorry about your friends, too." And the Howler flared and was gone.

There was a _very_ long silence, but small whispers were flitting around the hall as they took this in. The whispers got louder and louder until soon everyone in the hall was yelling to be heard over one another. James just stared at his friends and his friends stared back at James. There was something weird going on here.

Sirius gave James a quick nod and glanced pointedly at his wand. James quickly got his message and cast a small charm around them. "_Silencio Protege_!"

Immediately a small blue bubble shot out of his wand and hovered there for a minute. As it expanded, James grinned at Moony and Wormtail's surprised expressions. He and Sirius had invented that small spell themselves and had been working on it for quite a long while. It wasn't that spectacular in itself, but most spells that stopped eavesdroppers, magical or otherwise, were quite complicated and _very_ noticeable. This combination of the silencing and shield charm was a simple spell that engulfed the caster and whoever else he specified in a separate sound bubble and was not very noticeable.

As the bubble passed through him, James sighed in relief as the rest of the world was cut off. He could still see people yelling at each other, but he himself was engulfed in blissful silence, as where his three friends.

"Neat spell, James," complimented Remus, raising an eyebrow at the madly grinning teenager. "Working on it long?"

"Not too long," Sirius lied, giving his arms a good stretch before leaning in towards James, eyes gleaming thoughtfully. "Well," he commented, grinning slyly, "this just gets more curious and then curiouser again."

"I believe the term is curiouser and curiouser," corrected Remus with a grin.

"Whatever, Moony."

"What do you reckon is going on, James?" asked Peter, excitedly. Yep, Peter loved mysteries and James, his idol, was very good at solving them.

"I'm not too sure," began James, slowly – Peter looked disappointed – "but whatever it is, it's something to do with those three." So saying he jerked his head towards the other end of the table where Harry, Ron and Hermione where just sitting, looks of shock and horrified understanding on their faces.

"Hey, look at their right hands!" hissed Sirius suddenly, reaching over to hit James to catch his attention.

Muttering under his breath about over-violent friends, James looked. And swore.

Their right hands were bandaged.

For all three of them.

He heard Remus and Peter take a sharp breath as they too noticed this.

"Oh Merlin!" cried Peter quietly. He looked sorry for their three year-mates. "Imagine having a wound that _never_ stops bleeding. How awful!"

James had to quite agree with him, but at the moment his mind was occupied with other matters. Like where the wounds had come from, why and, more importantly, _how_.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, three fifth year girls and one sixth year – all from Hufflepuff – launched themselves on him, crying their eyes out. James had only time to let out a startled yelp of confusion before he was buried underneath a mass of robes, bushy hair, blonde hair, curly hair, red hair and brown hair.

Sirius grinned to himself at James predicament, feeling a bit annoyed that it was James that was getting all the girl's attention and not him. That was the one problem with _their_ sound charm. Anything could get in and, once they had, the charm was broken. Sirius saw Remus wince slightly as the Great Hall's roar of chaos assaulted their ears once more. Sirius, for his part, just shrugged, conjured up some popcorn and began to watch the show.

"Oh, _James_!" one of them sobbed, her mascara making ugly tracks down her face as she cried. "It's so awful!"

Sirius could just about her James strangled cry of "What is?" before all the girls broke into even louder sobs.

"You're going to _die_, James!" wailed another, who Sirius personally thought must have been descended from a banshee. Her sorrowful wails mind him grimace and raised all the hairs down the back of his neck.

"And you're coping with it so well!" gasped the sixth year, clutching weakly at his arm. "You're so…so..b-brave!" and here she collapsed once more into the clutches of woe.

With great effort, James managed to push some of the girls off him. Although Sirius knew his friend was enjoying the attention, Prongs clearly had other things on his mind and was beginning to lose his temper.

"Uh oh." Remus had apparently noticed as well.

"Look," growled James angrily, "I'll say it once and for all, I am not – repeat _not_ – going to – "

"J –James?"

James whipped around immediately, to be greeted by a pair of brilliant green eyes that gazed at him with…_concern_?

Lily Evans smiled up at him in an embarrassed kind of way. Around him, James could just about feel his friends' mouths drop. He felt like doing that, too, but decided it wouldn't be cool. Instead, he just smiled at her with the special smile that he reserved just for her. "Hi, Evans."

Evans smiled again. "J-just call me Lily, k?" she asked, timidly.

James positively beamed at her.

"Look, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry and all about the cut," Lily began and swallowed hard, looking at James, who felt a small thrill go through him as he looked into those piercing emerald eyes. He could drown in them. He snapped back to the future when he realised that Lily was still talking. "..had our, erm, _differences_, but I just want to say, well, can we forget it, please?" She held out her hand.

James didn't believe it. Was he _dreaming_? He took her smooth hand, but, instead of shaking it, he raised it to his lips. Closing his eyes for the sweet taste of Lily, he was totally unexpected for the smack he got across the face.

Falling to the floor – damn, she was strong – he looked off in time to see Lily furiously storming out of the hall.

"Lily! Wait!" James called and ran after her.

He was gone only a few seconds before the hall erupted into stifled laughter. Laughter because it was, obviously, funny and stifled for three reasons. One, because if James heard he would hex them all, two, his friends were still all sitting in the hall and Sirius was just as likely to hex them as James and three, because all of them felt slightly guilty to be caught laughing at a man that was condemned to death.

Remus threw Sirius an amused look. "I think maybe our resident stag has decided that he doesn't want to be one anymore," he commented, with a wolfish grin.

"Huh?"

"Honestly Peter," snorted Sirius with a grin. "How slow can you be?"

Peter scowled for a second and then shrugged, letting it slide off him as many of his friends' jibes did. He knew that they didn't really mean it – well, not in bad spirit anyway.

"Anyway," continued Remus with another sly grin, "I believe James has changed his mind about telling everyone that he isn't going to die."

"Why?" asked Peter in confusion. "Oh."

Sirius rolled his eyes at Remus, but broke off with a wicked grin. "So, James is mummy's 'poor baby', hey?"

And they settled down to the usual conversation, none of them taking not of that one of them was wearing smoking horns and another was wearing smoking horns, green boils, a tail and was dripping with pumpkin juice.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

Harry looked around the Great Hall with a huge mixture of feelings. One of the strongest was longing. Here, all the people he loved most in the world were alive, happy and carefree. His mum, dad and Sirius were still amongst the living, the Marauders had free reign over Hogwarts and everyone was completely unaware of the torturous and harsh world they were about to be plunged in.

Another feeling was of sadness. How could he not be? He was surrounded by a lot of people that fate had destined to die. His mum, dad and godfather, obviously. But there were other faces prominent among the crowd, too. With a pang, he recognised the face of Bertha Jorkins, a witch that Voldemort had killed two and a bit summers ago. There was an older boy on the other side of the Gryffindor table that reminded Harry of someone, but he couldn't put his finger on _who_. Then it hit him. _Neville_.

Immediately, Harry felt a surge of resentment at the name, but was immediately ashamed of himself. Would he really wish his fate on someone else? Besides, Neville deserved all the good luck he needed in life. Harry felt his throat catch as he pictured Frank Longbottom as he knew him from the future. Insane, unable to recognise his own son and a permanent resident of St Mungos.

And, as he thought of just _why_ Neville's parents were insane, Harry felt a surge of hatred. It was all he could do to not get up and blast the bitch that had done this to Neville and who had taken Sirius away from him. Bellatrix Lestrange.

There she was, laughing cynically at the Slytherin table with others that Harry _knew_ were present day death eaters. Snape was there too and he was the only one who did not try to hide his amusement. Instead, he laughed as hard and loud as he could, as though daring Sirius to go for him.

Further down the table was someone else that made Harry's blood boil. With fair, flaxen hair and a faraway look, was Barty Crouch Jr, by the look of him a puny first year. Harry unconsciously gripped his wand, shaking as he tried to control himself. How easy would it be to kill them both – Lestrange and Crouch – and save so many families from pain and suffering. Cedric would still be alive, Neville would be with his family, Voldemort would never have risen and, more importantly, Sirius would be alive. He would be with Harry.

Near to Harry, a jug of pumpkin juice exploded spraying himself, Ron and Hermione with pumpkin juice. His best friends jumped, startled out of their argument. They were getting some funny looks from students and teachers both.

"Harry," hissed Hermione, warningly. "Control yourself!"

'_It's alright for _her_ to say,_' thought Harry darkly, but tried hard to swallow his emotions and clear his mind. He sneaked a glance at Sirius and Lupin to see what they were doing.

Big mistake.

People screamed as all the glass in the giant windows shattered and ran to avoid being hit by falling pieces of glass. Quite a few people were shooting spells, but more often than not, they made the situation worse.

As people began to charge out of the school hall, Harry ran with them. He could hear Dumbledore behind them shooting sparks out of the end of his wand, but he carried on running. He charged into the entrance hall and raced out into the grounds, coming to a halt suddenly as his grief overtook him.

"WHY _**ME**_?"

He collapsed onto the floor and tried to slow his breathing, feeling his arms stop trembling. He heard hurried footsteps behind him and knew that Ron and Hermione had followed him.

There was a brief silence as they sat down next to Harry and looked at him. Harry put his head between his legs. Finally, Hermione ventured a small question.

"Um, Harry?" Grunt. "What – I mean, _why_ - did you –"

"Pettigrew," was Harry's reply. It was all they needed. Hermione gave a soft "Oh" and Ron didn't say anything but glared into the distance, which was enough.

"Harry, I know he makes you mad, but…" began Hermione, but was cut off by a furious Harry.

"Makes me _mad_, Hermione?" whispered Harry, before yelling up the volume. "_MAD_? Have you any _idea_ what I feel whenever I see that…that…BASTARD?"

Hermione made a funny sort of sound in her throat and cowered away.

"All I see is _him_, sitting there, laughing and joking with my Dad and my Godfather," bellowed Harry, suddenly shooting to his feet. "They TRUSTED him and they looked out for him, even though he was a two-faced, bumbling idiot of a wizard and THIS is how he repays them! HE MURDERED MY PARENTS AND CONDEMNED MY GODFATHER TO A LIFETIME IN AZKAKBAN!"

Hermione slapped him.

More than a little shocked, Harry sat suddenly on the ground. Hermione, trembled a little but held her ground. "I _know_, Harry," she soothed, glancing around them worriedly. "I feel it, too."

"Not as much as me," muttered Harry rebelliously.

"But," continued Hermione as though she had not heard him, "you can't let on _any_ indication of what's going to happen – you can't kill him Harry. Not in this time."

"Maybe he should tell, 'Mione," pointed out Ron, angrily. "Then Harry's parents would still be alive – make the little rat get what he deserves."

"You. Can't. Tell. _ANYONE_!" snapped Hermione, putting extra emphasis on each word. "You have no idea _what_ might happen if you let slip information about the future. At the best they'll think you're insane and send you to St Mungos. At the worst you'll create a paradox or split the world in _half_, Ron! Just think about it. You tell them and they don't die. Neither does Sirius and Peter gets sent off to Azkaban like he deserves. What happens to the you that told your parents in the first place? Where would he have come from? That's the sort of thing that can destroy the world!" She turned from a considerably paler Ron to Harry. "I know you hate him Harry. Like I said, we _all_ do. But you've got to control your temper!"

Harry sighed and nodded. He knew Hermione was right, knew what she said made sense, but she had no idea how hard this was going to be for him. He breathed deeply and tried to clear his mind like he was supposed to in occlumency.

This was going to be a _very_ long year.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

Love,

Hannanora-Potter

~x~x~x~


	6. In which there are lots of mirrors

**Title:** Time is a Healer

**Summary:** Harry, Ron and Hermione are suddenly and inexplicably thrown into the Marauders' sixth year at Hogwarts. Delighted with this chance to meet his parents and reunite with the recently deceased Sirius, Harry soon starts to cut his ties for the future, leaving Ron and Hermione seriously worried. And what's the monster that's starting to stalk Harry?

**Timeline and Spoilers:** Books 1 through 5, at the beginning of Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts (very beginning)

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and any related characters and setting are all the property of J.K. Rowling and not me.

**Extra:** '_blah_' = thoughts

_**Chapter 6 – In Which There Are Rather A Lot Of Mirrors:**_

Harry woke up with a start the next day. Staring up at the white hangings of his four-poster bed he thought very hard about the dream he had just had. Unusually for him, it was a very clear dream and everything seemed to follow on from one another in a very logical way, not at all like the random jumping of ordinary dreams.

He sighed. Travel back through time – a chance to meet his parents and Sirius again. He swallowed a big lump in his throat. '_Oh, Sirius…'_

"RISE AND SHINE!" bellowed a large voice and Harry suddenly found himself looking at a very big bucket of water perched over his head. As it leaned precariously towards him he decided it would be best if he jumped out of the way.

No sooner had he scrambled out of bed, tripping and falling heavily on the floor, than the bucket flipped upside down and soaked his mattress and sheets with icy cold water. After a chorus of yells, he realised he wasn't the only one to have received such kind and generous treatment. Looking around, he froze.

James Potter – his _father_ - was standing in the middle of the circular bedroom grinning madly and holding out his wand. Peter Pettigrew was shivering in a huddle on his soaking bed and blinking furiously. Ron, unbelievably, was still fast asleep, but had a small icicle forming off the tip of his rather long nose. Lupin, like Harry, had managed to avoid the morning shower and was trying not to smirk as he fished out some wizard robes.

Opposite James was _Sirius_. He had fallen out of bed with a big thump and was hopelessly tangled in his soaking sheets. That didn't, however, stop him from making threats.

"Prongs," he growled, wrestling with what turned out to be his arm, "when I get out of here, you are going to be followed around by buckets for a whole month and whenever you sit down, or draw your wand, it'll tip all over you. And it won't be just water, either!"

He opened his mouth to say more, but managed to almost swallow a big knot of sheet, so thought better of it and concentrated his efforts more on getting out of his tangled mess.

James just grinned at him. "All right, whatever you say, Padfoot," and looked around the room in satisfaction. He froze when he got to Ron. "Oh, for Merlin's sake!" he cried, looking annoyed. "He didn't even wake up!"

Harry stifled a laugh, but Lupin didn't bother to. "Looks like your powers of pranking are wearing thin, James," he laughed, pausing in his fruitless search for socks. "You missed both Harry and I and Ron didn't even wake up!"

James made an indignant face at Remus. "How _dare_ you!" he exclaimed, putting on an affronted face. "I'll wake him up – don't you worry!" And he gave his wand a great flourish and whispered something Harry didn't hear. This time not one, but _ten_ buckets appeared, swaying uncertainly over Ron's bed. James looked around to make sure everyone was watching, before sweeping his wand downwards as fast as possible.

With a great roar, all ten buckets emptied their contents on Ron – and not all of it was water. Something green and slimy – like the stuff Snape used to pickle various disgusting plants and animals in – oozed out, staining one of Ron's paisley pyjama legs a sickly sort of green. Another bucket tipped what looked suspiciously like black treacle above Ron's head and it slithered down the back of his neck, like some sort of evil halo. Another bucket tipped golden syrup and another, for some obscure reason Harry couldn't think of, little pink confetti hearts.

Not surprisingly, Ron woke with a yell struggling to sit up, but finding his head was glued to the pillow and bed with black treacle. "Bloody Hell!" he swore, giving his bed a quick glance then doing a double take and staring at it a bit more. He looked up and spotted Harry who was trying very hard not to laugh.

"Ha, ha!" snapped Ron, but in a sort of good humouredly way. "If Fred and George hadn't already left Hogwarts I'd say this was their handiwork." He looked down at his bed again, then back up at Harry, who was suddenly looking horrified. "What, Harry? Give us a hand here, mate!" he said as he tried to unstick his pyjama leg. "If it was Peeves I'll – "

"_Scourgify_!" Harry yelled, flourishing his wand in the kind of way he remembered Tonks doing last year. Unfortunately, Tonks had never been good at that spell and Harry, who had only ever seen it once and never actually learnt it, turned out to be even worse. True, most of the water went away, as did the golden syrup and the black treacle. The slime, however, gave a frightened sort of squeak – which Harry had to admit was a remarkable feat in pure slime – and jumped in a slithering kind of way to Ron's bare arms, which now, thanks to Harry, bore intricate slimy green patterns.

The confetti didn't move either. In fact, it now stuck itself securely to every bit of Ron it could find and began flashing in different colours every other second. What's worse, Harry had managed to bleach Ron's hair, but only in certain stripes. Harry gave a sort relieved groan. He had only been trying to shut Ron up log enough for him to notice the four Marauders, but his friend was going to kill him once he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

A sudden storm of laughter made both Ron and Harry jump. The Four Marauders, unable to contain themselves any longer, had burst into laughter. Harry saw Ron's eyes widen as he saw them and he gave Harry a quick nod of understanding.

"Brilliant!" gasped James, weakly clutching at his side. He had tears running down his face.

"Absolutely amazing!" added Sirius, in between huge guffaws. He had to lean against the wall for support. "The Hair!" he exclaimed in delight.

Ron frowned at Sirius, then shot a look at Harry who was looking slightly guilty. _"Accio mirror,"_ he said, summoning a mirror with his wand and not once taking his eyes off Harry. This turned out to be a mistake as the mirror ended up crashing into his head. This only made the Marauders laugh louder and even Harry felt his mouth twitch. Ron looked into the mirror and gasped in absolute horror.

"Bloody hell!" he cried again, tentatively reaching a hand to touch it, as if he couldn't believe it was really his. He looked over at Harry and yelled, "I'm gonna _kill_ you, Harry!" and launched himself off the bed. He didn't get very far – apparently not all the treacle had gone – when the door burst open. Even the Marauders stopped laughing to see who it was.

A mirror flew into Ron's lap. He frowned at it bewildered and looked up at Harry. He opened his mouth to say something when another mirror flew through the open door and clattered on the floor by Ron. It was followed by another and then two more. Then there was a very small purple one that had red roses on the back.

Harry, who could see where this was going, edged gingerly away from Ron's bed. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see the Marauders doing the same, dragging Peter with them.

It soon became very apparent why as mirror after mirror zoomed into the room, falling in heaps by his bed, on his lap and even crashing into his head like the first one. "OOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWW!" Harry heard Ron yell. "GET THESE THINGS AWAY FROM ME - OOOOOOOUUUCCCCHHHHHH! AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

By this time, it was too much for the Marauders and Harry, who burst into hysterical laughter. Ron heard them and was trying to find his wand to curse them, but was disappearing behind piles of mirrors. Harry almost fainted with mirth when he saw the full-length mirrors from various bathrooms marching into Ron's room. Some of them weren't big enough to get through the door and stomped sulkily to lean carefully against the wall. Finally the seemingly endless rush of mirrors was slowing till only a few arrived every minute. The very last mirror was very old and cobwebby and too big to fit through the door. It was rather elaborate, with engravings set carefully in the elaborate arch overhead. It seemed familiar. Then Harry's heart gave an almighty jump as he suddenly recognised it – it was the Mirror of Erised.

Resisting the urge to take a peek in it, Harry clambered over the mountainous piles of mirrors and dodged the tall standing ones that seemed to leer at him to get to Ron. The Marauders stumbled after him, still laughing, tears pouring down their cheeks.

"Ron?" called Harry, trying not to slip on the many mirrors that cluttered the floor. There was a muffled sort of yell, then a huge pile of mirrors collapsed, and Harry had to jump out of the way to avoid being buried. Ron's grumpy face suddenly appeared.

"Here."

James and Sirius promptly clambered over the remaining mirrors to vigorously shake both of Ron's hands – in a manner that reminded Harry forcefully of the Weasley twins.

"We just thought - " said James, grinning all over his face.

"- we would congratulate you," continued Sirius, shaking Ron's whole arm in his enthusiasm.

"- on pulling off the best prank in the whole history of Hogwarts!" they chorused. 'Very_ like the Weasley twins,_'Harry thought, grinning.'_Maybe all great Pranksters think alike?_'

Ron, however, was going green, and it had nothing to do with the slime that still adorned his arms. Sirius paused. "You all right?" he asked.

"You're, um, shaking my injured hand," gasped Ron, eyes glazed with pain.

Sirius dropped Ron's hand like it was on fire and James promptly hit him over the head. "Sirius, you idiot!"

"What on _Earth_ is going on here?"

All six boys swivelled. Unbeknownst to them, the great wave of mirrors flying through the portrait room and up the dormitory stairs had caught more than a few surprised Gryffindors attention. Many of the girls had been shocked to find their mirrors whipped from their grip that morning and had followed their fleeing mirrors to – where else? – but the dormitory of the infamous Marauders. Now a small – well, actually, huge – audience was crammed around the door and up and down the spiral stairs. Hermione had pushed her way to the front and was now glaring at James and Sirius with a very disapproving gleam in her eyes.

Sirius put on a very hurt look. "Aww, Hermione, my ray of sunshine!" he exclaimed indignantly. "How _could_ you think that it was us?" He gave a very fake sniff. "Don't you trust me at all?" He shot her a heart-watering grin.

But Hermione, who could be more than a match for Professor McGonagall when she got going, just glared at him more.

"And, besides, 'Mione," added James, grinning at her and wrapping Ron in a one armed hug, "this is all thanks to Ron here. And Harry," he added as an after thought. Harry glared at him as Hermione turned – along with everyone else – to stare incredulously at Harry.

"All I did was bleach his hair," Harry protested hotly, glaring right back at Hermione. "Ron just did a bad summoning charm, that was all."

"A bad summoning charm?" repeated Hermione, blinking. "Harry, Ron called every mirror in the entire school!" To demonstrate her theory, she picked up a small hand mirror from a pile near her feet and read the name that was engraved on the back. "Hilda Grollingsworth…" she trailed off and looked horrified. Everyone else burst into applause and shouts of laughter.

Ron and Harry looked at each other, nonplussed. "Who's Hilda Grollingsworth?" Harry asked Hermione as she edged closer to them.

"Potions Master and head of Slytherin," Hermione replied pulling a face as she stepped on a mirror. "And she's ten times worse than Snape. If she finds out you stole her mirror she'll take a hundred points off us!" She suddenly broke off and gave a quick glance at Lupin who was standing near them, but he didn't seem to have heard anything. "How in Merlin's name are we going to get rid of all these mirrors?"

"Banishment spell?" suggested Harry, looking unhappily at all the mirrors around them.

Hermione shook her head absently as she chewed her tongue. Harry could see she was thinking. "They're all from different places. You can only send something to one place with a banishment charm – that's why it's harder than a summoning charm. It would take ages to send them all to each individual who owns them and not many of them are going to have names, are they?"

"Well, why don't you send them to just one place?" asked Lupin, who had been listening this time. "Like the Great Hall and then everyone can get their own?"

"That's perfect!" cried Hermione excitedly. Harry rolled his eyes as she jumped excitedly from one foot to the other. As she got out her wand to perform the charm, Harry tapped her on the shoulder. "Maybe we should do the bigger ones by hand?" he suggested, eying the Mirror of Erised. Hermione gave him a puzzled look, but nodded her head.

"EVICCIO HAND MIRRORS!" she yelled, and flung her wand out. As she concentrated hard on the Great Hall all the small mirrors rose off the floor and began to stream out the door. The cheers and laughter on the stairs quickly changed to screams as the students tried to escape flying mirrors and everyone in the dormitory had to duck to avoid being brained over the head.

When all the small mirrors were gone, Ron turned to Hermione. "You know, it might have been a good idea to warn those people on the stairs before you got rid of all the mirrors."

"Oh, shut up, Ron!" snapped Hermione, irritably. "I wouldn't have had to banish any of them at all if you hadn't done such an appalling summoning charm in the first place!"

Ron just stared at Hermione, mouth opening and closing before he could think of anything to say. "Well," he snapped finally, "if Harry hadn't jinxed me, I would have been thinking straight and – "

"That's no excuse, Ron!" retorted Hermione, glaring at him. "All you had to do was get out of bed and get one! You were just being lazy!"

"Are they always like this?" asked James, looking at Ron and Hermione in interest.

Harry grinned at him. "Yeah."

"Reminds me of James and Lily," said Remus, shooting the arguing two an amused look, before grinning at James. Hermione and Ron immediately shut up.

"Well," yawned Sirius, stretching and shooting Hermione a sort of disappointed look, "we'd better get to work on moving these big mirrors."

Peter groaned.

"I'll take this one," offered Remus and walked over to the mirror of Erised in the corridor. "It's weird – I've never seen it in the school bef-" He broke off and stared into his reflection in confusion.

As he opened his mouth to speak, Harry rushed over and jumped in front of Remus and said, in a falsely cheery voice, "We'll take this one, won't we, _Ron_."

"Why –" began Ron, but broke off, eyes round with horrified recognition. "Oh. Yeah."

And he rushed over to Harry and both of them began to drag the mirror carefully down the stairs. All four boys shot them a confused look, as did Hermione, who ran over to them. "What are you doing?" she hissed, looking back at the marauders.

"It's the Mirror of Erised, Hermione," whispered Harry, staring at her pointedly.

"Oh." Hermione's eyes went wide and she helped them in moving the mirror away.

As soon as they got out of sight, they paused for breath – the mirror was very heavy – and managed to hear some of the marauders conversation.

"What was wrong with the mirror, Moony?" That was Sirius voice.

"Yeah, you looked like you saw a ghost," piped up Peter. For once, Harry didn't feel a surge of anger.

"I did, sort of. I mean, when I looked into it I saw me, but it wasn't."

"Huh?"

"I was in it, but there was, well, it was the full moon and I was still there – 100% human."

"You didn't transform?" asked James incredulously.

"No."

There was a long silence here as everyone thought about that. Finally Peter spoke. "Do you think it shows the future?" he asked.

Harry shot Ron a grin and Ron made a face. That was exactly what Ron had asked.

"No," said Sirius slowly. "Nothing can reverse a werewolf bite. We should know – we must have read every book on the subject. It's something else."

"Remus," said James, suddenly, "what's the thing that you want most in the world?"

There was a short pause, as if Lupin was giving Harry's father a confused frown, but he answered, "To be normal again – free of the werewolf – oh!"

"What?" asked Peter, who obviously didn't have a clue what was going on. "What is it?"

"Come _on_, Wormtail, you're so slow!" exclaimed Sirius, but he told him, anyway. "That mirror shows you what your innermost desire is."

"Erised."

"Come again, Moony?"

"The Mirror of Erised," repeated Lupin. Ron, Harry and Hermione glanced at each other nervously. "That's what those three called it. They knew what it was – but how?"

There was another pause. "I dunno, Moony, but it fits – erised. It's desire backwards."

"Well…I'm starved. And" – Sirius gave a yelp – "there's only ten minutes left of breakfast."

Realising that was all they were going to hear, Harry, Ron and Hermione carried on lugging the heavy mirror downstairs and across the common room. Harry realised with a jolt that he was facing the mirror and had been staring into it for the past few minutes without really noticing what he saw. He took a deep breath and tried not to look into it, but the longing was too great. He looked down.

Instead of his parents and family smiling at him, Harry saw something – some_one_ else. Grinning at him, was _Sirius_. Harry felt a great pang when he looked at his dead godfather – a pang that was strangely echoed in his bandaged hand.

"OW!"

Ron and Hermione immediately poked their heads around the other side of the mirror. "What is it?" asked Hermione, worriedly.

"Nothing," Harry lied quickly. They both shoot him suspicious glances, but didn't say anything, so they carried on.

Harry looked back into the mirror. His Godfather was still there and now his hand began to ache furiously. Looking down at it, Harry could see that the bandages were beginning to look rather bloodstained. Biting his lip, Harry looked again into the mirror and blinked. Was that a great big _dog_ in the background? But as soon as it was there, it was gone. It must have been Harry's imagination – after all Sirius' animagus form was a dog – it stood to reason that that should be in there as well.

There was a loud "Ouch!" and then Hermione poked her head round the side again. "Harry, look where you're going!" she snapped, though her eyes remained worried and flitted uncertainly to the mirror. "You just rammed me and Ron into a wall!"

"Sorry," Harry apologised and backed up a bit. After that, he made a point of not looking into the mirror at all.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

In the end, Hermione charmed the Mirror to float alongside them – it was too much work to carry all the way to the Great Hall. When they eventually arrived at the Great Hall, it was as if a bomb had struck:

The Hall was a full of mirrors – Harry couldn't even see the four tables. Students were clambering around the piles yelling at the tops of their voices. Even the teachers weren't trying to calm them down. Harry spied Professor McGonagall, her usually neat hair in a severe bun streaming down her back. Harry and Ron stared – they had never seen Professor McGonagall so disorganised before – until Hermione primly reminded them that they had to find Professor Dumbledore.

As they craned their necks to try and see over the heads of hundreds of students, there was a great yell of "GET OUT OF THE WAY!"

Harry, Ron and Hermione jumped around and Hermione gave a small shriek, even as Harry and Ron pulled her out of the way. All the rest of the mirrors they had left in their dormitory came streaking into the Hall at top speed. There were more astonished yells – and quite a lot of cracks – as the rest of the school noticed the danger and scrambled to get out of the way. Not all of them managed it, and Harry had to repress a shout of laughter as Severus Snape got hit around the head by a flying mirror that he recognised from Moaning Myrtles bathroom. No other mirror could be that water stained.

It seemed that the Marauders – or, to be more precise, Sirius and James – had gotten tired of lugging all the mirrors to the Great Hall and had simply sent them there with the same charm Hermione had used. Unlike Hermione, however, they had been slightly more… _enthusiastic_. Harry saw Hermione wince as several of the mirrors slammed into the walls and sprayed students with shards of broken glass.

Sure enough, mere moments later, Sirius and James bounded into the Hall, grinning madly. Remus and Peter burst in just behind them, looking a little out of breath.

"YOU!"

The yell cut through the clatter like a knife. Silence fell immediately. Precariously climbing her way over a particularly large pile of mirrors was a short, stick of a witch. Her yellow skin was pasty and Harry had to wonder if she was well. She did look kind of diseased. Her black eyes flashed dangerously as she slid down the last mirrors and Harry realised this was not someone to be messed with.

"WHAT A SURPRISE!" she screeched, as she rounded on the Marauders. Harry winced and he saw Ron pull a face. Whoever this woman was, she had a voice that reminded Harry of fingers on a chalkboard. Banshee blood, maybe?

"HAVE YOU _ANY_ IDEA OF THE TROUBLE THAT YOU HAVE CAUSED?" James – with a look of indignation tried to interrupt, but his protest was drowned out by her continuing screams. "YOU'VE GONE TOO FAR THIS TIME, POTTER! 100 POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR!"

Sirius went purple. Harry recognised the signal for another fit of the infamous Black anger. The Professor didn't.

"I'LL MAKE SURE THAT YOU'RE EXPELLED BEFORE THE DAY IS OUT!" She promised, hair beginning to go static with suppressed anger. Harry – with a small gleam of satisfaction – saw Peter begin to tremble as it crackled and sparked.

"HOW _DARE_ YOU!" yelled Sirius and he actually made to punch the pasty woman, before James and Lupin caught his arms. "YOU – "

"That is enough."

Dumbledore had arrived.

Immediately, the pasty woman turned on Dumbledore. "These _boys_," she snarled in a manner that reminded Harry forcefully of Snape, "have –"

"I am well aware of the circumstances, Hilda," he broke in, fixing the Four Marauders with a piercing gaze. "Now, I want to ask you; did you do this?" Hilda spluttered indignantly but Dumbledore just looked at her and she fell silent. "Well, did you?"

James shot a quick glance at Ron before replying. "No, sir."

Dumbledore smiled and turned to Hilda. "You see – innocent."

But Hilda wasn't giving up that easily. "Of _COURSE_ they did it!" she bellowed, glaring at the Marauders. "Who else would do such a thing?"

"Hilda," admonished Dumbledore, warningly. "If they say they are innocent I believe them. They don't lie."

"Of course they lie!" shrieked the approaching hysterical woman. "They're teenagers!"

Now Dumbledore was looking at her with a rather concerned look. "Are you alright?"

Hilda just glared at him. "Of COURSE I'M NOT ALRIGHT! THESE… " Hilda struggled a bit before coming out with a word which Harry was sure was not the one she wanted to use at all "…WRONGDOERS HAVE CAUSED ABSOLUTE CHAOS AND YOU'RE LETTING THEM GET AWAY WITH IT!"

She seemed to run out of breath here and just crouched over gulping air. Dumbledore was looking really concerned now. "Come on, Hilda, let's get you to see Poppy – ah!" he broke off, looking just behind the Marauders.

Madam Pomfrey was standing there, clutching three goblets to her chest. She threw all the mirrors a vague glance before storming over to Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"When I say _before_ breakfast," she snapped angrily, "I mean before breakfast!" She thrust the goblets into their hands and glared at them. "Do you _want_ to die?" she snapped. "Just drink it!" The three exchanged helpless glances, aware that everyone in the Hall was staring at them. A few people were whispering together, obviously connecting their fate with the supposed fate of James. As soon as they had swallowed, Madam Pomfrey began checking their temperatures. "Are you alright – not feeling dizzy?" she asked, but before they could answer she was off again. "I was _so_ worried! You can't just miss these you know…"

"Poppy?"

Madam Pomfrey was distracted from her never ending rant and jumped around to see Professor Dumbledore holding a now distraught Hilda. Madam Pomfrey immediately made a sympathetic/angry clucking noise and ran over to Hilda. Harry, Ron and Hermione – glad for the escape – tried to hide behind the Mirror of Erised.

They heard Madam Pomfrey talking to Hilda and leading her out of the Hall. Immediately there was a great roar of laughter. To Harry and Ron's amazement, even Hermione gave a little laugh.

"Who in Merlin's name _was_ that?" asked Ron, staring at Hermione as though she had sprouted horns.

"Professor Grollingsworth," giggled Hermione, clutching the mirror for support. "Thank goodness for that – maybe she'll still be there for potions on Tuesday."

"Grollingsworth," Ron repeated uncertainly, but just then Professor Dumbledore came up to them.

"Ah, Mr Potter and Mr Wesley," greeted Dumbledore, eyes twinkling. "Would I be correct in thinking that you had something to do with this?"

Harry couldn't help it – he grinned as Ron blushed. "It was an accident, sir," babbled Ron, looking at the floor as his face burned. "I just wanted one mirror and I, er, kind of summoned all the mirrors in the school."

Harry remembered something suddenly and cut in before Ron could finish. "Oh, and sir? We've got the mirror of Erised. We thought," He lowered his voice, "we should bring it by hand – you know, we don't want just anyone finding out about it."

Dumbledore frowned at him. "The Mirror of what?"

Now it was Harry's turn to be confused. "You know, the Mirror of Erised?"

"I'm sorry, Mr Potter, but I have no idea what you are talking about," Dumbledore informed Harry looking at him and Ron and Hermione in a confused way. "What does the Mirror of Erised – I mean, what's so special about it?"

Harry was at a loss now. "You, well, I mean, when you look directly into it, it shows you, um, nothing more or less than your innermost desire," answered Harry, uncomfortably aware that he had almost exactly quoted Dumbledore in his first year. As he thought about that, another thought occurred to Harry. '_I wonder…_' he thought, before Dumbledore's astonished exclamation caught his attention.

"Does it really?" he asked delightedly, immediately jumping in front of it and peering, amazed, at his reflection.

"Um, sir?" asked Harry. Dumbledore gave a little jump. "I wouldn't look at it too much – you told me that it had driven men mad."

"I can see why," agreed Dumbledore, shooting the mirror a thoughtful look. "Well, I think that I should put this somewhere safe then." He flicked his wand and muttered something under his breath. The mirror immediately shrunk to the size of a mouse. Dumbledore bent down and put it in his pocket. He looked at them. "Best not to tell anyone about this, Mr Potter, Miss Granger and Mr Wesley."

Harry nodded absentmindedly, his attention elsewhere. He dimly registered that Ron and Hermione had taken up to arguing again, but his mind had struck upon an interesting thought.

Dumbledore hadn't known about the Mirror of Erised – and probably wouldn't have, if not for Ron's summoning spell. So, if they weren't meant to be here, Dumbledore would never have found out about the Mirror. But he did know about it in the future, because he told Harry about it.

Harry frowned. Was it just coincidence that Harry's words to Dumbledore about the mirror were almost an exact quote of Dumbledore himself? He didn't think so.

'_So this means_,' Harry thought, excitedly, '_that what ever I, or Ron and Hermione for that matter, do here, it won't matter. Because it's already happened so we can't change the future! That paradox thing doesn't count._' He grinned. This meant he didn't have to worry about being recognised for James' and Lily's son – or did it? '_But that means I can't tell them about Wormtail because it _has_ happened. But can I still change it – or will _that_ create a paradox?_'

Harry groaned and shook his head. This was a bit more confusing than he'd imagined. He was getting a headache – but how much of this was due to the complicated issues of time travel and how much to Ron and Hermione bickering in his ear, he really couldn't say. He would think about this later.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

Love,

Hannanora-Potter

~x~x~x~


	7. In which there are old broomsticks

**Title:** Time is a Healer

**Summary:** Harry, Ron and Hermione are suddenly and inexplicably thrown into the Marauders' sixth year at Hogwarts. Delighted with this chance to meet his parents and reunite with the recently deceased Sirius, Harry soon starts to cut his ties for the future, leaving Ron and Hermione seriously worried. And what's the monster that's starting to stalk Harry?

**Timeline and Spoilers:** Books 1 through 5, at the beginning of Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts (very beginning)

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and any related characters and setting are all the property of J.K. Rowling and not me.

**Extra:** '_blah_' = thoughts

_**Chapter Seven – In Which There Is Speculating and Old Broomsticks**_

Because of the eventful morning, the rest of the day was in rather a big mess. No one got to any of their morning lessons and by the time it was lunchtime, the teachers had given up trying to teach and declared it a lesson free day. This – and the fact that Professor Grollingsworth was out of action for at least a week as she recovered from hysterics, brought great joy to all the Gryffindor's. Ron found himself cheered as he walked down corridors and suddenly all the girls were showing a lot of interest in him. Much to Ron's delight of course.

However, the scene was definitely lacking something. It took Harry a while to put his finger on it: The Marauders were missing.

If James and Sirius were anything like Fred and George – which they were – then they would have been in the thick of things, cheering Ron and pulling pranks left, right and centre. But they weren't. But Harry didn't really have time to debate as Ron grabbed hold of him and pleaded to go outside with him – "I just can't stand this much longer, mate!" he confided in Harry as they squeezed their way out of the common room. "Let's go play Quidditch or something."

The reason for the Marauder's absence was because they had seen such chaos and disruption as the perfect time to hold a meeting. A meeting to talk about three certain transfer students…

"Well, guys, what do you think about 'em?" asked James, peering around his friends as if he could read their minds.

"Why don't we start with what we _know_, Prongs," suggested Remus, glancing around the damp walls. They were in one of their secret passageways that no one but them knew about. It was behind a grand old mirror on the 4th floor. And although they knew Filch didn't know of it, he couldn't help feeling that he was going to pounce out of the shadows.

"We know they're lying," said Sirius promptly.

James rolled his eyes. "Well, _duh_," he drawled. "Why else would be having this meeting?"

Sirius glared at him. "Well, you wanted to know what we _know_ so I was perfectly within the question's parameters in answering – "

"Sirius," warned Remus. He could see another one of his friends long winded speeches coming on.

Sirius glowered at Remus now, but he did shut up. Remus turned back to the other Marauders. "Well?"

"Let's start at the beginning," said James, frowning as he tried to remember. "Hermione ran into Charms with about twenty minutes to go."

"Right," agreed Sirius, abandoning his sulk in the face of a juicy mystery. "And she seemed to think that she already was in Gryffindor."

"But she can't have been," pointed out Remus. "We know every one in our house, especially those in our _year_."

"That boy – Ron," said Peter, suddenly, "he said something like if…um…"

"Fred and George?" prompted James helpfully.

"Yeah, them. Yeah, if they hadn't already left Hogwarts, he would have thought that it would have been them playing that prank this morning."

"And they said something about Peeves," added Sirius, face screwed up in what happened to be real concentration. "I don't know how anyone outside of Hogwarts would know _him_."

"And when Harry and Ron arrived," continued James, "they weren't lost or anything. They were walking around the halls as if they had walked there all their lives like we said yesterday."

"They know us," stated Remus.

Sirius stared at him in total confusion. "Well, of _course_ they do, Moony!" he cried exaggeratedly. "I mean, they have been sleeping in our dormitory."

Remus stared at him in disbelief. "From before, Sirius, you idiot!"

Sirius looked a little sheepish as James cleared his throat. "I agree with Moony," he said, playing with a little spider that had just landed on his nose. "Hermione recognised us – hence all the fainting. Ron even got our names right."

"But Harry…" Here James trailed off, staring off into the distance, not noticing the small spider making a run for it.

His friends waited patiently – well, Remus and Peter did, but Sirius wasn't exactly known for his heaps of patience and hit James on the head with a cry of "Come _on_, Prongs! Tell us already!"

James shook his head and glared at Sirius, but he opened his mouth to speak anyway. "When he saw us, after he came round he said, "Dad? Sirius?""

James didn't need to say anymore. His friends stared at him, mouths hanging open. After a while, the tension became a little too hard to bear, so James spoke again. "I mean, I know he looks like me, but that doesn't necessarily mean…"

"Of COURSE it means that you daft niffler!" yelled Sirius, beating him around the head so hard that James actually hit the floor. "Oh, sorry about that, Prongsie, but…" he gave a huge, fake sniff… "My little baby's all grown up!"

Even James couldn't help but grin at that. "Wonder who the mother is," pondered Remus, even as Sirius let off a few multicoloured sparks in celebration.

"Lily," answered James, at once.

Remus jumped and stared at him. "Are you sure?" he asked, flapping his hand at Sirius to be quiet, as he had just broken into a rather rude song.

"Very," replied James and he immediately began to drift off into Lily world. For once, all his friends did not groan, but actually listened to his love struck ranting. "His eyes are exactly the same as hers. How long have I dreamt of those vibrant, striking, emerald green orbs that radiate from her.."

He had to stop then as he suddenly found all his friends jumping on top of him to drown out the noise. As soon as James head was out of the clouds, the Marauders got back to their engaging conversation.

"Why do you think they're here?" asked Peter excitedly.

"I think how might be a better question," grinned Sirius, "and the answer to the first is soo obvious."

"It is?"

"Yep," confirmed Sirius, eyes glowing. "Our Jamsie has raised a right little prankster and what better way to celebrate than going back in time to visit the Marauders!" He looked very proud of himself for having such a good theory, but Remus was having none of it.

"No, that's not it," he said, shaking his head thoughtfully. "They looked ever so surprised – all of them. They didn't even look like they _knew_ they were back in time. And if they were, they probably would have been more careful with what they said."

"I wouldn't have!" pointed out Sirius. "Why should they care? All the more fun! Anyway, I reckon James must have sent 'em back. Yeah, James, remember this and when they get to sixth year, send them back here, ok?" As James gave a nod – more out of habit than agreement – Sirius turned to Remus and grinned. "See, sorted! Now let's go talk to them and – "

"Padfoot, no!" snapped Moony. "That's not it and you know it. Besides, James would never send his kid and their friends back to the past – he isn't as irresponsible as all that!"

"Will you stop saying my 'kid' please?" asked James, shaking his head as though to free it of a fly. "It's giving me a headache."

Sirius however, wasn't paying too much attention. "Well, then, _I'll_ do it," he offered, grinning mischievously, before puffing himself up. "I am, after all, Harry's godfather."

"Eh?" asked Peter. "How in Merlin's name did you get there?"

"Easily," smirked Sirius. "As Hermione was trying to drag James' son – " James groaned " – away from us, he pushed her off and said, "I want to see my godfather!" Voila. Me!"

"He could have meant Snape," protested Remus, but the effect of the protest was rather put off by a huge snigger, halfway through.

"Did you see the look on old Snivellus' face?" asked Sirius, eyes clouding as he reminisced dreamily. "Priceless!"

"Sirius?" asked James, waving a hand in front of his friends face. "Could you focus please?"

"Sorry, mate."

"Any way, that explains why they can't tell us who they all really are," said Remus, cupping his chin in one hand and looking very reflective. "How amazing this is – I don't think anyone has done time travel before."

"What about the time turners," pointed out James. "They take you back in time."

"Only for a couple of hours, though," dismissed Remus, staring off into the distance. "This is years of time travel. At least twenty, I should think."

"Well, I think we should confront 'em about it!" announced Sirius, eyes glowing with anticipation. "And then they could tell us what happens to us in the future!"

"I don't think that's such a good idea…" started Remus, frowning, but his voice was lost as Sirius continued exuberantly.

"Or, better yet, they could show us!" he cried, jumping to his feet and dancing on the spot.

Now everyone stared at him. "Um, how?" asked Peter.

Sirius grinned wickedly. "Well, we confront them right," he began, waving his hands to portray the action, "and then tell them to take us with them into the future!"

Everyone groaned.

"Padfoot," sighed James, shaking his head, "as if!"

Sirius looked a little hurt. "Well, why not?" he demanded. "I mean, me an' Prongs can order them to. I mean James is his _father_ - of course they're going to listen to him!" His eyes grew big and wistful. "Think of all the pranks we could play…"

At this point the rest of the Marauders decided that Sirius was not worth listening to and turned their back on him. As they began to talk again, Sirius continued his day dream behind them.

"So, what do you guys think we should do?" asked James, looking at Peter and Remus. Remus looked thoughtful.

"Confronting them's a bad idea," he stated, frowning as he puzzled over the problem.

"And would you imagine the look on old McGonanagall's face?" exclaimed Sirius, ecstatic.

"But, then again, what else is there to do?" finished Moony in frustration. "I mean, we want to help them get back – don't we?"

"And I bet you 2 galleons that James is a Quidditch player!"

"Maybe we should tell them," piped up Peter. "I mean, at least they won't have to be too careful around us anymore. Keeping a secret like that is a huge burden." He flushed as his friends turned to look at him. "Or, so I would imagine," he finished, hurriedly.

"As for me, well I would be the most handsome, famous wizard in the world and everyone would know who I was and adore me…"

"But it would scare the hell out of them," protested James. "I mean, how many times have they fainted already?"

"…and I would be hugely rich…"

"Maybe we should leave it for a while, you know?" suggested James, after a short pause. "Get to know them a little more before telling them we know."

"…and have my own personal Quidditch team…"

"Yeah, that's a good idea," approved Remus. "Peter?"

"Yep."

"…and I would have you guys round so I could gloat…"

"Is there any point even asking him?" asked James, jerking his head towards Sirius.

"…You know, I wouldn't be overly surprised if they put up a huge statue of me in the Entrance Hall at school…"

"No," said Remus and laughed as James punched Sirius hard in the arm.

"Snap out of it, Padfoot!" James yelled in his ear.

"Ow!"

Sirius looked very hurt, but Moony, Wormtail and Prongs were far too used to this to take any notice. "So, what shall we do about Quidditch?"

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

The next day, sufficed to say, was a lot less manic than the previous. Harry made sure that he could up long before James and made a point of waking Ron up too. As Ron, grumbling under his breath about early risers, and Harry made their way down into the common room, a new notice caught their eye.

"QUIDDITCH TRY OUTS – DUE TO THE BANISHMENT OF OUR STAR SEEKER JAMES – James, since when were you a star at anything? – SHUT UP, PADFOOT, I'M WRITING THIS, NOT YOU! ANYWAY, TRY OUTS WILL BE HELD FOR THE RESERVE SEEKER POSITION ON THIS AFTERNOON, AT FIVE."

Ron and Harry exchanged a look.

"Seeker try outs, hey?" prompted Ron, looking at Harry and grinning. "You going in for them?"

"Of course," replied Harry, feeling a thrill of excitement surge through him at the mere thought. Quidditch. He hadn't played it for so long, it felt like an eternity. Truth be told he had only played it a week and a half ago, but it _felt_ like an eternity. Flying could take away all of his problems – at least for a while.

"I would go in for it, but you know that I'm an awful seeker," sighed Ron, eying the notice wistfully. "Who do you think their – "

"What are you two talking about?" came a suspicious voice.

Harry and Ron turned around. Hermione was walking down the stair from the girl's tower, a huge book clasped in her hands.

Ron bristled at her tone. "No need to get like that, 'Mione," he snapped, pulling himself upright. Harry was the only one to see him suck in his stomach a bit. "We were just talking about what men talk –"

"Oh, for goodness sake, Ron!" retorted Hermione, storming up to them. "After yesterday, it's a wonder that I leave you two alone at all – not that you were alone. All those girls following around yesterday!" She clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "Honestly!"

As Ron opened his mouth to reply, Harry – who could see another Ron-Hermione quarrel coming on, quickly interrupted. "We were just talking about Quidditch," he said, gesturing with his hands at the red and gold notice. "There's an opening for a reserve seeker since James is banned from the next game. I was going to go in for it."

"Oh," said Hermione, face turning sad. She bit her lip and looked pityingly at Harry. "I'm sorry, Harry, but you can't."

"What?" asked Harry, astonished, and getting slightly angry himself. "Why not?"

Hermione looked like she was trying to tiptoe around a lightly sleeping dragon. "Because of what Madam Pomfrey said." She waved her own bandaged hand around as though to emphasise the point. "We can't do anything dangerous, or else we could…well, die, and that includes Quidditch."

There was a short silence following her words, before Ron spoke out, and Harry was angered to hear that his voice carried the same, careful pitying tone of Hermione's. "She's right, mate. It's too much of a risk."

Harry just stood there, battling with the annoying part of his brain that said they were right. He was on the point of not caring. Here he was, with the parents he had never known, and the Godfather that he had just lost, when they were alive, well and happy. What was so wrong with death, anyway? Sirius, James and Lily were all dead and all he wanted was to have more time with them, especially Sirius.

A flash out of the corner of his eye, made him jump. Looking around he couldn't see anything but the groups of Gryffindor's heading to the Great Hall. He shook his head. For a moment there, he thought he had seen a big dog, but it must have been his imagination. Putting amazing vanishing dogs out of his mind for the moment, Harry turned back to the more pressing issue. Ron and Hermione were still looking at him, worried.

Harry considered and pondered what he could say to them. All the arguments and delicate points he could make. But, to frank, he could not be bothered. So he simply said, "I don't really care," and stormed out of the corridor.

As he strode quickly down the wide corridor's he could hear Ron and Hermione clattering after him. Through the noisy bustling of the other students, he heard Hermione admonish Ron, "And since when has my name been 'Mione', Ron?"

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

Harry stood on the pitch, wind ruffling his already unkempt hair. The sun glinted in the East, the light making him blink and shield his eyes. With him on the pitch were several other Gryffindors, all nervously clutching their broomsticks. Harry, who was holding a ragged school broom, was looking them up and down, sizing them up.

Talking animatedly to what looked to be his brother, was a boy with dark brown hair. Their attitude reminded him of the Creevey brothers, except, instead of being tiny, these brothers were extremely tall, completely dwarfing everyone else on the Pitch. '_Too tall and heavy_,' dismissed Harry, although he knew he shouldn't. He was being a little cocky, really, having had four years experience.

A small fourth year girl was hopping from one foot to another, turning greener and greener as time went on. She didn't look too sure of herself, so Harry put her aside as not much of a problem. The only other person he felt he had to watch was a sixth year girl. She was standing calmly to one side, a steady hand on her broom, as she, too, looked around the other Gryffindors. She spotted Harry looking at her and grinned.

"Hey, Harry, I didn't know you were trying out, too!"

With a start, Harry realised that it was Lily Evans – his mother. With the sun behind her, he hadn't recognised his own mother. Now she walked up to him, smiling, flicking her red hair behind her shoulder.

"L-Lily!" stammered Harry, surprised. Shocked, he said the first thing that came into his head. "What are you doing here? I thought you hated Quidditch!"

Lily shot him a surprised look, before laughing. "I suppose I seem that way," she confessed, "but I don't hate the sport – just the damned show off, James Potter!"

Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not, so he kept quiet as Lily rambled on about James.

"I mean, it's not even that hard, but everyone adores him for it!" she exclaimed, as though comprehension of this was completely beyond her. "So I saw that sign and I thought, well, I'll just come down here and show everyone that it's not that hard."

"You actually want to be the Seeker?" asked Harry, all astonishment.

Lily hesitated a while, before giving him a cheeky grin. "Well, not really, but if I do get it, I'll just throw it back in his face. He won't like that!" She started laughing again, and even Harry found himself laughing. His mother was such a – dare he say it? – cool person.

Harry felt his laughter cut off as he reflected on that statement. Was. Not Is. Was. Because she was dead.

"Harry?" asked Lily, frowning. "Are you all right?"

"Erm, yeah, fine," said Harry and it wasn't really a lie. After, she was alive now, right? And as long as he stayed here, she would be alive. So, what's there to worry about? He was about to say more, when James strolled onto the pitch, the rest of the Quidditch team following him, joking and making bets.

"Hello, Gryffindors!" he yelled, grinning at them. As he caught sight of Lily, his grin widened and his expression became a little silly. "Without much further ado, I would like to announce our new reserve seeker, Lily Evans!"

"JAMES!" bellowed Sirius, waving his beater's bat threateningly at their Captain.

James grinned, good humouredly. "Alright, Padfoot." He cleared his throat. "Gryffindors, you're all here to try out for the position of reserve seeker –"

"We _know_ that, Potter," snapped Lily, glaring at her future husband, one hand on her hip, "otherwise we wouldn't be here! Get on with it!"

"Oh, Lily," sighed James, taking a few steps towards her, "you always were so smart."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" cried Sirius and he stepped up, pushing James out of the way. "Get on your brooms, you lot, and start looking for the snitch," he ordered, grasping his own broom. "The person who catches it will get the Seeker position and us lot –" he jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team " – will be playing the usual game, you know, with bludgers and all that."

When the prospective Seekers just stared at Sirius blankly he gave an almighty yell. "GET ON YOUR BROOMSTICKS AND INTO THE AIR, YOU IDIOTS!"

Every one jumped onto their brooms and shot into the air at once. Harry's broom gave a nasty wobble and he swerved slightly to the left. '_Typical,_' he thought as his broom laboured to rise. '_Out of all the brooms in the school, I had to pick the worst!_'

Looking around, Harry saw Sirius grinning at him. "Alright there, Harry?" he asked, zooming over on his own broom.

Harry tried not to grimace. "Oh, yeah, absolutely fine!" he drawled sarcastically. "Just give me a match and I'm all set for the suicide watch."

Sirius laughed loudly, making Harry jump. Then he too laughed. Why not? He was in the air, playing his favourite sport with his Godfather, as if nothing was troubling them.

Sirius looked around them carefully, before turning back to Harry, voice lowered. "Isn't Hermione here?"

Harry stared at him. "No," he replied shortly. Seeing his Godfather's face fall slightly, Harry hastened to add, "She doesn't approve of me playing with my hand." He waved it around.

"Oh." Sirius hesitated slightly before asking his next question. "Is she, welll..."

"Well, what?" asked Harry, entirely confused.

Sirius gave Harry an exasperated look. "You're slower than Peter sometimes," he snapped angrily, before lowering his voice again. When he spoke, he hardly moved his lips, so Harry had to lean right in to hear what he was saying. "Has she got a boyfriend?"

For a few seconds Harry was in shock. Then his senses got the better of him and he burst into laughter. If he hadn't been in midair, floating on a very unstable broom he would have fallen off to emphasise his mirth. Then Sirius hit him on the back and that dream was nearly realised.

"It's not funny!" he cried indignantly. "And you didn't answer my question!"

In between great gasps of laughter, Harry choked out his reply. "N-No!"

Sirius grinned at him. "Are you sure?" he asked, as if just to make sure. "I thought that maybe Ron..."

Harry gave a great snort of mirth. "No," he reassured the rapidly brightening Sirius. "I mean, Ron likes her and all that, but he's never gotten round to actually asking her."

"Do you think that she," began Sirius, but he was cut off as James sped over to them, a frown on his face.

"Come on, Sirius," he called, grabbing a hold of Sirius' arm. It was either be pulled or fall off his broom. "The game's already started and Harry needs a chance to catch the snitch."

As they were dragged off, Harry caught a few words of their conversation.

"What were you talking to him about Sirius?" asked James, frowning.

"Nothing," protested Sirius, but he had all the appearance of guilt. "Isn't a Gryffindor allowed to talk to a fellow Gryffindor and - dare I say it – friend these days without suspicions being aroused?"

Sirius," warned James with a sigh.

"I only wanted to know if Hermione was free," explained Sirius, immediately taking on a wistful and ecstatic expression. "And guess what, Prongs? She is!"

"You can't go out with her, Padfoot!" exclaimed James, shocked. "She's from the future!"

Harry almost fell off his broom again at that. They knew that he, Ron and Hermione were from the future?

"I know!" grinned Sirius happily. "Brilliant, isn't it! A load of sex and no real worries over the relationship getting Sirius! Get it?"

James rolled his eyes. "Sirius, that joke got old about 5 minutes after I first met you."

They were getting further away now and Harry could only make out Sirius' faint reply.

"So?" countered Sirius, hotly. "It's true, isn't it? No responsibilities! Pure bliss!"

Harry shook his head, to try and clear the thoughts that buzzed around in it. They knew – '_but how?_' he asked himself, even as his eyes automatically searched for the Snitch. '_Well, we haven't exactly been overly careful at times,_' Harry reminded himself, thinking over the time when they first met and when Ron had done the summoning charm just a day before.

He groaned. Hermione was going to murder them both. As his thoughts turned to one of his best friends, he couldn't help but grin. His Godfather had a crush on Hermione – classic! When he got back to the future, he was going to tease Sirius about this horribly.

Then his face fell. But Sirius wouldn't be there when he got back. Sirius was dead, gone forever. He would never see his Godfather again. A pang from his hand made him look down – and then he saw it! The Snitch was hovering directly below him, pale golden wings fluttering over the grass.

But how to get to it, that was the problem. He heard a great triumphant shout and realised that at least one of the other Seekers-to-be had seen the Snitch. Praying to which ever deity felt inclined to listen, Harry directed his broom nose down. Have flying, half falling, Harry accelerated towards the Snitch, but Lily Evans was beneath him and getting there faster.

Harry flattened himself as much as he could but it still wasn't enough. Then the broom did something that he wasn't sure if he appreciated or not.

It broke.

The ancient broom had finally had enough, and suddenly Harry found himself falling to the ground like he had in his third year. But this time there wasn't any Dumbledore to levitate him to safety. Well, seeing as he was now gaining on the Snitch must faster now that he was falling as opposed to when he was flying, he might as well catch it before he died. Flinging the battered sticks that was formerly his broomstick at Lily, Harry reached out his bandaged hand. Beneath the snitch, the ground was rushing closer and closer. A few distorted screams were resounding all around him but Harry's only thoughts were on the Snitch.

There! He had it. The cool golden ball was grasped in his sweaty hands and now Harry had the ground to contend with.

"_WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA_!" he bellowed, waving his other hand frantically at the ground. Well, he had to try _something_...

And to Harry's utter amazement, the spell worked. He suddenly stopped moving, nose hovering a mere inch from the ground. As he slowly lowered himself onto the ground Lily Evans rammed in to him. Harry started guiltily when he saw that she had a bleeding nose as a result from his wooden missiles, but Lily didn't seem to care. She launched herself at him, enveloping him in a huge hug. Harry wasn't sure whether to be embarrassed or not. It suddenly struck him that this was the first real hug he'd ever had from one of his parents.

Lily leant back and stared at him worriedly. "Are you alright?" she asked, as the rest of the team pelted up to them.

"Wow, Harry!" whooped Sirius, pounding the black haired boy on the back. "That was impressive – throwing yourself off the broom to catch the Snitch – that has got to be a first!"

"I didn't – " began Harry, but his correction was lost in Sirius' jubilation.

"Suicidal!" he cried, throwing out both hands dramatically. "Brilliant devotion to the game! And that bit of wandless magic at the end to stop yourself dying. Fantastic! I think we've found our new seeker!" he added, glancing at the rest of the team to check. All of them were looking slightly awed and nodded enthusiastically.

Only James looked a little unsure. "I dunno, Padfoot," he said, throwing Harry a concerned glance. "We don't want him to die," and in lower tones, "What about his hand?"

"Hand, schmand," dismissed Sirius, waving his own. "We got ourselves a seeker."

So saying, he and the other beater lifted an extremely embarrassed Harry onto their shoulders and took him back up to the Castle, all the while chanting "Go GO Gryffindor!"

James was left alone, staring at the retreating party.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

Love,

Hannanora-Potter

~x~x~x~


	8. In which things go grrr in the night

**Title:** Time is a Healer

**Summary:** Harry, Ron and Hermione are suddenly and inexplicably thrown into the Marauders' sixth year at Hogwarts. Delighted with this chance to meet his parents and reunite with the recently deceased Sirius, Harry soon starts to cut his ties for the future, leaving Ron and Hermione seriously worried. And what's the monster that's starting to stalk Harry?

**Timeline and Spoilers:** Books 1 through 5, at the beginning of Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts (very beginning)

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and any related characters and setting are all the property of J.K. Rowling and not me.

**Extra:** '_blah_' = thoughts

_**Chapter Eight: In Which Things Go Grr in the Night**_

Hermione stared at him. Her mouth was hanging open in what, she realised, was a very un-Hermione way, but she didn't care. She just did not believe it. She ran the sentence over and over again in her head, even as numb shock was seeping through her. But it still made no sense. She just could _not_ believe it.

Apparently, neither could Ron.

"You're joking, right?" he asked Harry faintly, attempting a weak smile, which didn't disguise the overall expression on his face that said he had just swallowed a whole cauldrons worth of a horrible cross breed between blood replenishing potion, skelegrow and polyjuice. "I mean…" he laughed nervously then swallowed. "Sirius for Hermione? There…there has to be some kind of mistake, right?" he finished hopefully.

Harry just grinned at him.

It was the day after the Quidditch tryouts. Hermione hadn't managed to get a chance to speak to Harry the day before. The celebrations had lasted all night and this time it was Harry who had been surrounded by girls. Hermione had, instead, used the time to run over the most persuasive and disapproving speech of her life.

She hadn't had much chance to speak to Harry today, either. She was up, bright and early as usual, and waited for him in the common room. But everyone in Gryffindor seemed to be having a hard time getting out of bed that morning. With only fifteen minutes till their first lesson, and not a sign of either Ron, Harry or any other student, for that matter, Hermione gave into the rumblings of her stomach and ran down to the Great Hall to have a piece of toast. On the way she stopped by the Hospital Wing to find a very irate Madam Pomfrey. Promising to take along the potions for both Harry and Ron, Hermione rushed off to the Great Hall to grab a bite to eat before first lesson.

She tried not to blush as everyone in the Hall stared at her, but she couldn't help it. Out of all the Gryffindors in the school, only one of them had turned up for breakfast. Her embarrassment only increased, as Professor McGonagall came up to her and demanded to know where the rest of her house was.

Fortunately for said Gryffindor's, their first class was potions with Grollingsworth. This, under the circumstances, would have been quite a catastrophe, but, because of the mirror incident, Grollingsworth was out of action. Well, all right, in the Hospital Wing going through a mental breakdown.

So there was a substitute – a rather dithery, wizened old witch called Professor Binns, apparently the wife of the History of Magic Professor, who was not actually dead yet. She, like her husband, was prone to droning on and on, oblivious to all that was around her.

Hermione wasn't too sure that was a plus at the moment. After all, Slytherins surrounded her and there were no Gryffindor's to watch her back. She would have liked to have taken notes, but her present situation was too precarious for attempting academic perfection. Indeed, Hermione had already beaten off a jelly legs curse, the full body bind and even a stunner – whilst thanking Harry with all her heart for the DA lessons last year – when the Gryffindor's entered.

Incredibly, Professor Binns did not notice the large crowd of people who had just charged into the room, many with their robes inside out, ties round their waist and so on, looking half dead on their feet. She just kept droning on, writing notes on the board as Harry and Ron slid into the seats next to her.

"Where have you been?" hissed Hermione, leaning across her blank piece of parchment to glare at them. "I haven't been able to take any notes at all because of all the Slytherins and we're doing morphing potions today. They're really interesting! And here; you forgot about your potions. _Again_."

Harry groaned slightly, but was saved from replying by Professor Binns, who had unfortunately come out of her stupor long enough to hear Hermione whispering.

"Now, now!" she snapped, glaring at said Miss Granger. "Pay attention! That will be 10 points from Gryffindor."

Seeing as Hermione had been the only one working at all, the Slytherins found this immensely funny and sniggered. Hermione, who was already angry with Harry, found herself unable to speak with him for the rest of the day, she was so furious at him. Just to annoy her even more, Harry didn't even seem to mind that much. He was constantly chatting to Sirius, James, Lily and Remus and even speaking politely to Wormtail (when Peter rarely thought of enough words to make a sentence).

So, by the time she had gotten Harry and Ron on their own, Hermione was not a happy bunny. She had dragged them to an empty classroom after dinner to lecture them. Almost as if he had sensed what was coming however, Harry jumped in first with this and now Hermione's mind was so far away from Quidditch that she couldn't even remember what it was.

She paused a moment to wonder why on Earth Harry was looking so happy, before she realised what Ron had said. Despite her own strong conviction that this was, indeed, a mistake, she couldn't let that one pass.

"I'm sorry?" she snapped, glaring at Ron. "Is it really so hard to believe that someone might like me?"

Ron gulped and looked to Harry for support. Harry, however, looked as though Christmas had come early and was watching them both, barely suppressing his amusement. As Ron turned back to Hermione, he winced. Hermione was very forbidding when angered.

"I didn't mean it like that, 'Mione," he stuttered, nervously. "It's just that…well…"

"Yes?" she inquired, raising one eyebrow.

Ron gulped again and then shut up.

Hermione glared at him for a second longer then turned back to Harry. "What are you so happy about?" she demanded. Harry's joyous expression flickered.

"Don't be like that, Hermione!" he protested, looking hurt. "I think it's such an amazing idea!"

'_Ok, now Harry's lost it_.' "You do?" she repeated, looking rather dazed.

Harry grinned again. "Yeah."

"But Harry," Hermione pointed out, "he's over 20 years older than us – "

"Not at the moment he isn't!" retorted Harry, beaming at her.

Hermione was getting rather worried now. This was not like Harry at all. She looked at Ron – he, too, was staring at Harry strangely. What _was_ going on?

"Mate," started Ron, but then fell silent, as Harry looked at him. It appeared that he couldn't find words to say.

"Harry," began Hermione this time. She wasn't too sure how to say this. "Sirius is, well, he's dead Harry."

Why was Harry still grinning? Now she knew that there was something wrong.

"He's not dead," Harry stated and then just fell silent.

"Yes, he is Harry!" retorted Hermione. She wished Ron would stop staring. "He died in the Department of Mysteries in the summer! You've got to get over this!" She was shouting now. "SIRIUS – IS – DEAD!"

Harry jumped to his feet. "HE IS NOT DEAD!" Harry bellowed, the smile wiped off his face. He was red faced with anger and Hermione shrank back in her seat. "HE IS ALIVE AND WELL AND HAPPY!"

"Here, yes, Harry – but not in our time!" she explained, speaking slowly and quietly, as though to a child. "And when we get back – "

"I don't want to go back!" yelled Harry. "You don't get it, do you? He shouldn't have died – it was all my fault – but here he's alive and well. I don't want to loose him again!"

"You've got to accept it, Harry," she snapped, taking a deep breath, and speaking words that she'd never really accepted or believed before – but now, she had to, for Harry's sake. She almost choked on them as they forced themselves out of her mouth. "Sirius is dead – gone, deceased – and there is nothing you can do to get him back. He's gone for ever, Harry!"

As she spoke, a weird tingly sensation spread down her arm. She stopped talking and looked down. It was on her bandaged arm and it felt…different. It wasn't aching anymore – in fact, it felt fine – like it hadn't done in weeks.

A big thud made her jump and look up. Harry was lying on the floor, face pale and blood oozing out of his hand.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

As Ron and Hermione disappeared out of the room, a teary eyed Hermione levitating Harry to the hospital wing, James ripped the invisibility cloak off and stood, staring blankly at the wall.

Well, that had certainly been a bit of an eye opener.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

Ron didn't know what to say to Hermione, who was sobbing quietly to herself. He was always a bit awkward around her – it wasn't that he didn't like Hermione. That was the whole problem. He mentally reviewed all the possible things he could say or do in this situation. He could make a funny comment; that was always an option. But, after sneaking a glance at Hermione's tear streaked face, he decided not to. He could say something comforting – but what could he possibly say? He wasn't even too sure why she was crying. Homework – Hermione loved it after all – but, no, he was already quite depressed. He didn't want to make himself feel worse. He could do nothing – just sit here. Maybe he could slide an arm around her shoulders – on second thoughts, too big a step.

So, Ron just sat there, saying nothing, doing nothing, until Hermione asked him something through the hail of tears.

"Ron, what do you think about Harry?"

"Huh?" he asked, not understanding the question.

She gave a faint 'tut' and said "Honestly, Ron," in a decidedly Hermione fashion. "What do you think about Harry – his behaviour?"

"Well, he's Harry," started Ron, speaking slowly as he dragged his mind away from the watery chocolate brown eyes that were peering up at him. "I mean, I get that he cares for Sirius and all that, but he's, well…" He trailed off, unsure of how to end.

Hermione nodded, absent-mindedly running her fingers through her bushy hair. "Different," she supplied, although they both knew that that didn't cover Harry's behaviour at all. "He's not letting go – I mean, we're all finding it hard, but," she paused, staring at her hand. "We just have to accept it."

"Yeah," agreed Ron, looking up at the ceiling, feeling depressed, but oddly resigned. "Sirius is gone."

'_What the – ?'_ A strange tingling sensation had just wormed itself down Ron's arm. Ron jumped and stared at his arm. Just as suddenly as it started, the tingling sensation stopped and the dull ache that had been annoying him for ages, went.

"Hermione," started Ron, but was interrupted, as Madam Pomfrey bustled into the side room of the infirmary. Both of them jumped to their feet as she came in. Madam Pomfrey did not look pleased. She was very flustered and in a very snappy mood.

"How is he, Madam Pomfrey?" asked Hermione, anxiously.

"He's asleep at the moment, but the bleeding on his hand is just getting worse," she informed them waspishly. "He's going to have to take more frequent doses of that blood replenishing potion from now on." She paused to give a huge sniff, before turning her beady eyes on the two of them. "I'll have to check you two, too, you know," she informed them.

Suppressing a groan – he hated that potion! – Ron followed Madam Pomfrey into the Hospital Wing. They could see Harry lying on the bed furthest from the door, eyes shut and seemingly motionless. Ron saw Hermione's shoulders shake slightly with suppressed mirth as they passed a bed with the yellow skinned witch from two days before. He was quite amazed at this – Hermione usually loved all the teachers – and decided that, whoever the witch was, she must have done something horrendous to get Hermione so pissed at her. Because Hermione only got mad at people with good reason – excepting himself and Harry of course – Ron did not feel a twinge of guilt as he passed her. She, on the other hand, gave a tremulous "eek!" and popped her head under the covers.

Ron and Hermione sat down on beds near Harry's and held out their bandaged arms. This routine was getting to be quite familiar to Ron now, though he loathed to admit it. First, Madam Pomfrey would peel off Hermione's bandages, cleaning away the leaking blood and cleaning the cut, before applying a fresh set of bandages. Then she would do the same to Ron.

But, today, was slightly different.

As the bandages were peeled away, the matron gave a loud gasp. Hermione, who always looked the other way when her hand was bandaged, whipped her around to scrutinize her hand. "What is it?" she asked, nervously, but then she, too, gasped.

"Hermione?" asked Ron uncertainly, trying not to imagine Hermione dying painfully of blood loss, "What is the – " and then he stopped.

Hermione had held up her hand, revealing just a long scar.

Her hand had healed!

"That's great, Hermione!" cried Ron, jumping to his feet. As the matron and Hermione gazed at him in confusion, he flushed and sat back down. Truth was, he had wanted to give her a hug, but he had had second thoughts about that. No point embarrassing himself needlessly.

"Why did it heal?" asked Hermione, but the matron was just at a loss as she was.

"No idea, my dear," she said, shaking her head although her lips were pressed in a tiny smile. "Mind you, I don't know why it wouldn't stop bleeding in the first place. Just took time, I suppose."

But Hermione, far from looking relieved, now frowned. Ron attempted a grin – he knew that not having an answer for something would drive Hermione insane – but was too sick with nervous anticipation. What if his hand had healed, too? But, then again, what if it had just gotten as bad as Harry's?

Although he tried to suppress the feeling, Ron couldn't help but feel hopeful. After all, his arm didn't ache anymore – that was a good sign, right? He watched, half in dread and half in hopeful excitement, as his own bandage was peeled away, layer by layer.

As the last layer came away, disappointment hit Ron in waves – he could still see the open cut, outlined as usual, in congealed blood – '_Wait!_ Congealed _blood?'_

"I'm cured, too!" yelled Ron, jumping to his feet and grabbed Hermione in an attempt of a jubilant victory dance. A few seconds later he realised what he was doing and dropped her hands like they were hot coals. It was hard to say which one of them was redder.

Madam Pomfrey was smiling, too. "I don't know why they've healed but they have. Congratulations."

As Ron and Hermione beamed over at her, Ron felt the grin slide off his face. Over Madam Pomfrey's shoulders he could see a crop of messy, jet-black hair. They were fine, sure – but what about Harry?

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

"Well, Prongsie, what did you find out?"

James tried to smile at Sirius – to be more like himself – but he couldn't. He couldn't even meet his eyes. It was just, well, horrible.

They had decided to take it in turns under the Invisibility cloak to spy on Harry, Ron and Hermione. James and Sirius had both wanted to go first – James protested that it was his cloak, so he should go first and Sirius had announced loudly that, as it was his idea he wanted to have the first turn. They almost ended up duelling for it – which was quite ironic as it had actually been Peter's idea to begin with – before Remus had stepped in and told Sirius to "shut up" and let James go first.

Now, more than ever, James was so grateful for this. It was awful enough as it was, without Sirius realising he had no future. Truth be told, James didn't even want to be in the same room as him. But, Sirius was his best friend. What could he do?

"OW!"

Stars danced across James vision as Sirius hit him on the head. "You're being TOO SLOW!" Sirius informed him loudly, grinning at him.

Usually James would have rolled his eyes – like Remus – or laughed – like Peter – but today he just hung his head miserably. "Sorry, Sirius," he mumbled. He looked up to see the rest of the Marauders looking at him strangely.

"Are you alright, James?" Remus asked, looking up from his book to look at him in slight concern.

"Um, yeah," said James in a falsely bright voice and attempting a grin. "Yeah – just fine."

Remus continued to stare at him worriedly, but Sirius seemed convinced. "So, Prongs," he repeated, literally bouncing up and down in anticipation, "what did you find out?"

What could he say? Plastering a fake smirk on his face, James said, "I think she likes you, Padfoot."

Sirius face lit up and he shot out of his seat. "I knew IT!" he screeched, before seeing the smiles on all of his friend's faces. "Er, I mean," he continued in a bored, indifferent tone, "how could she not?"

Remus shook his head, grinning. "How long have you got?" he teased, laughing with Peter as Sirius stuck his tongue out at him.

James watched all of this with a sort of hollowness inside. Just last week he would have been laughing, too – heck, even an hour ago he would have been happy. But things looked so different now – now that he knew.

"Seriously, James, what is up with you?"

James jumped and looked up at Sirius guiltily. He couldn't tell Sirius. He couldn't tell Sirius that, in just around twenty years, he would be dead. Sirius was so full of life that it had never occurred to James that he would die someday. But now he knew the truth and it had hit James in such a way that he had never thought possible.

Well, from now on, Sirius was going to have everything he wanted. James would no longer stand in his way.

"Yeah," James said, echoing himself from before. "I'm fine – I'm just wondering what shall Padfoot here do for his first date?"

Sirius grinned at him. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Remus staring at him, confused. This was not James' usual behaviour – and James knew it, but who cared? Sirius was going to die – James was going to live just to make his shortened life happy.

And, if Hermione was what Sirius wanted, Hermione was what he was going to get.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

Harry's arm was hurting.

No, scratch that.

It was killing him.

As Harry's mind dragged itself from the weary dregs of unconsciousness a burning pain immediately assaulted him in his arm. It prickled uncomfortably and seared painfully when he even attempted to move it. Nothing, Harry thought, could be worse than this pain – not even the skelegrow potion that he had to take in second year.

For a moment, all he noticed was the pain. But, after a while, he realised that it was dark – very dark. Not even the moon alighted the dormitory and he couldn't even see his hand (the one that wasn't raging war on the rest of him anyway) when he waved it in front of his face.

But, then again, was he even in the dormitory anymore?

He couldn't hear Ron's snores – however much he tried to deny it, Ron snored – and the bed felt wrong. Well, it wasn't his bed, but, then again, it still felt familiar. But where from? Then realisation hit Harry and he groaned. He knew exactly where he was.

The Hospital Wing.

_Again_.

What had happened this time? Quidditch? Maybe Snape had managed to get the better of him for once. '_What?'_ Harry thought, suddenly. 'Snape? _Where the hell did that come from? Malfoy, surely?'_

Then he remembered. _Oh_.

A slight growl made Harry jump. At first he had thought that he had imagined it. After all he was all alone, in the pitch black. But Harry had never been one for over-imaginative dwellings and almost before the thought had crossed his mind, there was another growl.

It sounded like a dog. Harry knew better than to call out to whatever was there. No need to tell the thing where he was. Apprehension growing as the dark pressed in on him, Harry reached out with his right hand, whilst his left throbbed annoyingly. He needed his wand – he had, sadly enough, enough experience of nasty, magical creatures, to know that a wand was necessary. As his scrabbling fingers closed over the holly wand, he told himself that he was being paranoid.

'_It's probably just Sirius playing a joke as Padfoot_,' he reflected sadly.

As soon as Sirius' name had jumped into Harry's head, two things happened. The first was that his arm gave such a painful stab that he gasped out in surprise. The second was that the thing that was growling in the shadows leapt onto his bed and, suddenly, Harry could see it.

It was a monster.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

Love,

Hannanora-Potter

~x~x~x~


	9. In which Sirius declares his Love

**Title:** Time is a Healer

**Summary:** Harry, Ron and Hermione are suddenly and inexplicably thrown into the Marauders' sixth year at Hogwarts. Delighted with this chance to meet his parents and reunite with the recently deceased Sirius, Harry soon starts to cut his ties for the future, leaving Ron and Hermione seriously worried. And what's the monster that's starting to stalk Harry?

**Timeline and Spoilers:** Books 1 through 5, at the beginning of Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts (very beginning)

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and any related characters and setting are all the property of J.K. Rowling and not me. The prank scene basis is mainly taken by the British film "Love Actually" by Richard Curtis, where the song "All You Need Is Love" was written by the Beatles and does not belong to me.

**Extra:** '_blah_' = thoughts

_**Chapter Nine – In Which Sirius Declares His Love**_

It was a monster.

Harry stared up at it, terrified. He had seen a lot of things that would normally make a person scream, but this…this was the worst.

It looked like it had once been a dog, but had been horribly mutated at some point. The heavily scarred skin was black all over, but rippled and peeled as it snarled, saliva dripping from the yellowish fangs. It's huge claws were digging into the mattress and the hold bed was sagging under the weight of the thing. Harry felt the weight of the beast, but not on his body – in his mind.

It was like a colossal avalanche or tidal wave crashing down on a nut, drowning it in it's presence. For a while all Harry could think of was death – how much easier it would be just to die – he'd see Sirius again after all. But then the stronger voice, the one that always spoke to him through the Imperius curse, fought back.

'_I_ can't _die!_' he thought furiously. '_I can't leave the world to Voldermort's devices – I'm their only hope!_'

Wild, red eyes were focused intently on his face, a menacing and hungry gleam in them. Harry shivered unconsciously as he stared into the wild orbs. Reflected in them he could see his own pale face, but then…

'_Hold on a second!_' Harry thought, almost forgetting his peril as he peered intently into the monsters eyes. '_What's that?_' And he let out a huge gasp.

In the depths of the monsters eyes he could Sirius – Sirius falling into the black veil, over and over again. He fell and Harry saw that look on his face. The one that had been etched and burned into Harry's face; the astonished expression of someone who does not realise they're dead, who does not know that he is about to leave Harry's life forever. And, the laughter not quite gone from his face, Sirius disappeared through the floating veil.

"NOOOOOOOO!"

Harry felt a surge of anger at the monster and made to push him off him. How _dare_ he? How _dare_ he make Harry relive that awful experience – wasn't it bad enough that he was haunted in his dreams? Harry felt the power of his anger feeding him extra strength and he brandished the wand at the monster ready to kill it for that painful experience, especially when Sirius was alive and well.

But then, his hand gave another almighty throb, this one so painful that Harry dropped his wand in shock and his vision went grey.

Blinking watery eyes, he was surprised to see that the monster thing was gone – and groaned to see Madam Pomfrey running at him.

"What on Earth!" she gasped, clutching her pink, fluffy nightgown around her, hair every which way. "Mr Potter!" she exclaimed, reaching out to grab his hand. "Oh, my dear! You're all clammy! What happened?"

Harry wrenched his hand out of her grasp and felt ashamed. "Oh, er, n-nothing?" he lied. When she looked at him, he added, "Really, Madam Pomfrey, it was just a nightmare."

She didn't look very convinced, but nodded her head, lips pursed. "Alright, then, but next time – "

"There won't be a next time!" Harry promised, silently willing with all his might for her to go away. His head hurt – he needed to think.

She sighed, then glanced at the clock. It was twenty past two in the morning. "Oh, fine," she snapped finally. "I'll just go, then?"

"Please," said Harry, repressing a grin as Madam Pomfrey huffed and went out muttering darkly under her breath.

As soon as the temperamental matron had disappeared out of sight, however, the grin slid off Harry's face and he shivered involuntarily. What in Merlin's name had just happened?

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

Harry raced down the corridors of Hogwarts, many students staring after him. He had been released that morning – after much fussing on Pomfrey's part and much begging on his – and was now racing to find Ron and Hermione. The only problem was, he couldn't seem to find them, anywhere.

'_Is anyone else getting slight déjà vu here?_' He thought, with a tight grin.

Skidding round a corner, he ran straight into Lily Evans who was talking – well, arguing – heatedly with James Potter. They all fell down in a huge pile, limbs everywhere.

"Er, sorry guys," he apologised, hurriedly extracting himself from the two (his face had been pressed up against Lily's chest). "You haven't seen Ron or Hermione anywhere, have you?"

James (who much to his delight had Lily practically in his lap) shook his head, almost as red as Harry. To make matters worse – or better, depending on how you looked at it – Lily was now wriggling vigorously in his grasp, trying to haul herself up.

"Um, Lily?" asked Harry, reaching out a hand to help her up. She accepted, much to James' disappointment. "You seen them?"

"Yeah," she replied, tentatively smoothing down her robes. Harry was amused to see that she was almost as red as James. "Hermione said she was going to the library, though I can't imagine why – she finishes all her homework before even me!"

Harry grinned. "Thanks!" He said, and ran off. As he passed by James, who had finally gotten off the floor, James whispered, "Spoil sport!"

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

Harry burst into the library a few minutes later earning him a reproving glare from Madam Pince. He ignored her and made his way through the students that were hurriedly writing out essays to the small table where he, Ron and Hermione always worked.

Hermione and Ron were very difficult to make out, but mainly because they were surrounded by a mountain of books. Hermione was scan reading a big purple one called "_Magical Maladies_" while Ron was reading – with the glazed expression he usually developed after a few minutes – "_Cuts and Wounds – a Magical Guide to Self Healing_".

"Hey."

Hermione jumped and looked up. "Oh, hi Harry!" she greeted, making Ron look up, too.

"Hey, Harry," he said, concern in his voice. "Sorry about your hand and all. Does it feel – "

"Ronald Weasley!"

"_What_ Hermione?"

"That's not very tactful!"

"Harry's not a baby, 'Mione!"

"I _know_ that!" she snapped back, glaring at him. "But it _i_s a very sensitive subject! And stop calling me 'Mione!"

Harry groaned and collapsed into a chair. Did they ever shut up? Unfortunately, whilst this had stopped their arguing, it also now made Harry the sole attention of his two best friends.

"Oh, no!" whispered Hermione, before reaching over to feel Harry's head. "Are you alright, Harry? Oh, maybe you've been let out too early. Actually, I'm not sure you should be let out of the Hospital Wing at _all_. I mean, we all know what kind of trouble you get into – it's not very safe…" She trailed off as both Harry and Ron glared at her. "What?"

Ron shook his head in disbelief whilst Harry answered. "What do you mean 'the kind of trouble I get in'? I don't get in trouble – trouble finds me!"

Hermione looked a little upset. "That's my point – and you didn't sound very well, Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes. "_That's_ because I was wondering when the two of you would just shut up!"

Hermione looked even more upset at this and so did Ron. "There's no need to be rude!"

Harry ignored them and instead asked, "What's with all these books? I thought we were researching time travel, not magical injuries."

Although she still looked a little sour, Harry had said the right thing. Hermione launched herself whole-heartedly into this subject.

"Well, you see, our wounds have, well, they've healed Harry," Hermione began, pausing a little to look at Harry. Harry just nodded stiffly – Madam Pomfrey had told him that morning. "They've healed," she continued after a few seconds paused, "but we don't know _why_."

"And you can imagine why Hermione's a little upset about _that_," Ron told his friend, grinning.

Hermione glared at him. "It's very important," she informed him haughtily, "and not just because I want to know. If we know, then we could help Harry." She turned back to Harry. "Anyway, as I was saying, we're researching more into magical cuts and wounds to see if we can find anything helpful."

"I still don't think we'll find anything, 'Mion – er, I mean, Hermione," objected Ron, frowning at the dusty book in front of him. "I mean, Madam Pomfrey's got years of experience and training and _she's_ stumped, so I don't think that we'll find anything useful in the school _library_ of all places."

"Don't say library like it's a dirty word, Ron!" snapped Hermione, frowning at him. "The library is a wonderful place – all that knowledge!"

Ron rolled his eyes, but thankfully refrained from replying to her. Harry decided to get them off the subject of books and cuts – another reminder that he was constantly in mortal danger of bleeding to death – and told them about the monster. By the end of his whispered story, both of them were wide eyed and had completely forgotten their argument.

"You know, that monster sounds rather familiar," said Ron, after a few seconds astonished pause.

"Ron!" hissed Hermione angrily. "Is that all you can say?" Receiving no answer, Hermione turned back to Harry. "Do you know what it wanted?"

Harry ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation. "No, but, come on – it's a big huge evil monster – I don't think it needs a motive to go killing and terrifying people!"

Hermione frowned in thought. "You say all you could think about was death?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, but after a while I fought back – it was a bit like the imperious curse, you know? Only more" – he shuddered – "morbid."

"Got it!" cried Ron suddenly, snapping his fingers.

"Got what?" asked Harry, confused.

"I know why that monster thing is so familiar," said Ron, beaming at them. "It was on those tapestries in… _the_ corridor."

'_Of course_,' Harry thought, mentally slapping himself round the head, '_how could I have forgotten?_'

Hermione looked surprised. "You mean that weird dog-monster that was fighting the wizard?"

"Yeah!"

"But you said those tapestries were hundreds of years old!" she protested, fingers visibly itching to get a book. "How can it still be around after all that time?"

Ron shrugged. "Maybe it's one of a species," he suggested.

"But I've never read about any magical animal like that," she pointed out. "And it sounds rather similar to a dementor, but it's never been mentioned in class."

"Well, maybe it's a more, um, rare type of magical animal," said Ron.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I don't think so. I think if it's in any way similar to the one in the tapestry, then it's probably the original." She hit the table slightly in exasperation. "But then where's it been all these years? _Someone_ would have written about it! Why now? Why Harry?"

"Maybe it's shy?" suggested Harry.

"As for why Harry," started Ron, "why not? I mean, you said it yourself, mate, trouble just loves you!"

Harry glared at him, but he felt his mouth twitch. Hermione smacked Ron around the head.

"Ow!" he complained, rubbing his sore head. "What was _that_ for?"

Hermione ignored him and instead began doing what she loved best: being bossy. "Right, I still think we should research magical injuries, just in case we find something useful," she began, fixing the two boys with her 'McGonagall' look. "Ron, you can do that – "

"Why me?" asked Ron, annoyed.

"For trying to be humorous and failing miserably."

Harry blinked. Had Hermione just made a joke? But he didn't have time to consider it, as Hermione rambled on. "Harry, I want you to continue looking up stuff about that wizard and the dog-monster – "

"Can't we give it a name?"

Hermione stopped, mid-flow, to stare at Harry. "A name?" she repeated, incredulously.

"Well, it seems weird calling it dog-monster all the time."

"Well, what name did you have in mind?" asked Hermione, still a little shocked.

"How about…_Malfoy_?"

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

"No, James, pay attention, will you?" snapped Sirius, stopping James from adding in the wrong potion ingredient for the sixteenth time. "You put that in, the potion would have exploded! Pay attention!"

"Oh, sorry, Sirius," apologised James, giving his head a little shake. '_Concentrate, James!_' he told himself. '_Live for Sirius – the now. Don't think about _that.'

"What is the _matter_ with you, Prongs?" asked Sirius, exasperated. "I mean, at this rate we're never going to get this prank set up!"

"Cut it out, Padfoot!" snapped James, angrily. "I'm just thinking – is that alright, your majesty?" he asked, doing a mock little bow.

Sirius simply hit him.

They were in a small room behind the portrait of Gummy the Insane. It turned out that Gummy – '_Merlin only knows how he got _that _name_,' thought James – had been a great practical joker in his time (about three hundred years ago) and he kept this room for joker's purposes only. This made him a great asset to the Marauder rule over the school and it was from here that they planned all their pranks, when everyone else was supposed to be in bed.

"Moony, can you tell this big oaf to stop beating me around the head?" James pleaded, looking over at his fellow Marauder, nose stuck in a book. Quite literally – Sirius had hexed him when the prefect had refused to help them in the planning of their prank.

"I… mmmf…would help if I could, Mmames," answered Remus, voice muffled through the pages stuck to his face, "but unless you would be kind enough to use the counter-curse, I'm afraid you're stuck on your own!"

Sirius stared at him, as if almost daring him to do it. James sighed. If it made Sirius angry, then he wouldn't. Remus was his friend, too, but Remus wasn't about to die. "Ah, well, never mind Moony," he told his friend. "Maybe you can persuade Peter to help when he comes along – not that he'll know the counter of course!"

Looking away, James turned to Sirius. "Shall we continue with this potion, then?"

Sirius grinned at him. They were making a potion that would turn anyone who drank it bright pink for 24 hours. They felt it had been too long since they had last played a prank, so next morning was to be their re-introduction as it were. Another potion was finished and bubbling away in the corner. This one was their surprise for the teachers.

"So, Padfoot," began James, adding a handful of crushed lacewings, "how's it going with Hermione, eh?"

Sirius made a face. "Well, I know she loves me" – Remus snorted disbelievingly into his book – "so asking her is not the problem. It's just I want to get the moment just right."

James raised an eyebrow. Sirius Black being romantic? That was a first. But James wasn't going to laugh at his doomed friend. In fact, he was going to help him. "Why don't we work it into our prank?"

Sirius looked at him. "How do you mean?"

"Well, why don't we create a little…_atmosphere_."

Sirius stared at him for a while, then comprehension began to alight in his eyes. "You may just have struck gold, Jamesie boy!"

James grinned at him, while Remus – unable to see anything but the blurry lines of his book – asked, "What on earth are you two madmen talking about?"

"Well, you see, Moony," explained James, grinning. "In the 60's there was this band…"

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

At the breakfast the next day, Remus Lupin sat eating his toast, forehead creased in thought. There weren't many people down to breakfast this early. Sirius and James were still in bed, exhausted from last night's frantic preparation for today's big prank. Peter was still in bed, too, but that was just because he liked to lie in.

Remus had finally gotten his nose out of the book, when Sirius had needed his help with a jinx. Suffice to say, it had taken much begging and pleading on their part before he would help them at all.

But what occupied Remus Lupin's thoughts today wasn't the prank, his lessons or even thoughts of revenge.

It was James.

James had been acting strangely the past day. Since he had gone to spy on the time-travellers, in fact. Spreading butter over another slice of toast, he wondered what his friend had heard. It must have been bad, because James was not…well, James.

Last night, he had almost been normal, planning pranks with Sirius, his usual creative imagination and maliciousness. But he had never stepped over Sirius ideas. If Sirius wanted to do that, then that was what they did. Even if Remus had had a better idea, they still did what Sirius had said. Prongs had avidly defended his rash friend, even when Remus could see in his eyes that he believed what Moony had said was right.

"_But I don't think that that would be practical, Sirius!" protested Lupin, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Just do the Slytherins – the others would be too much work."_

_But Sirius was stubborn. "Look, I'm the one asking her," he growled angrily. "And if I want to include the others, I'll include the others!"_

"_You'll be up half the night!" Remus cried, exasperated. "_And_ you'd have to steal half a dozen more ingredients from Grolls' private office! It's not worth the risk, Padfoot." Seeing the grumpy animagus wasn't going to budge, the werewolf turned to James. "Come on, Prongs! Back me up here!"_

_As both of his friends turned towards him, Remus saw James…_hesitate_? '_James_ never _hesitates about_ anything! _That's why he and Sirius get into so much trouble! They don't think about what they say, _ever_!_' But James was hesitating. He looked at Sirius, swallowed bravely, and gave Remus an apologetic look before saying, "I agree with Sirius."_

_Sirius grinned delightedly and Remus felt his jaw drop. "You agree with…with _him_?" spluttered Remus, incredulously._

_Sirius glared at Remus, in mock indignation. "How can you _say_ that, my dear Moony?" he cried, eloquently waving his hands. "When will you realise that _all_ my ideas are good ones?" He broke into a grin._

_James, on the other hand, narrowed his eyes and spoke in such a cold voice that Remus shuddered unconsciously. "Don't you _ever_ talk about Sirius that way again!" he snarled._

_For a few minutes, there was a tense silence as both Sirius and Remus stared at James in shock. James stared back, eyes fixed on Remus. The Sirius said, "Well, on with the potion. All three houses then?"_

_No one replied, but they got back to work anyway. The room was still tense and not one of them made a sound except for; "Can you pass me that book, Sirius?", "Sure thing, Moony" and "Now we have to stir it three times anticlockwise with a wooden spoon."_

_After a few more minutes of nothing, Sirius finally decided to enter the breach and start again. "So, James, I was thinking," he started, offhandedly, as though they had been chatting casually the past few minutes, "I was thinking, maybe you should use this to ask Lily out whilst I ask Hermione."_

_James froze in the act of measuring out some oak sap. Hope, longing and desire flashed into James eyes at the mention of Lily, but a look of determination and pain overtook it. "No – I've, er, I've gone off Evans, Padfoot." He continued pouring out the sap, not meeting anyone's eyes._

_More incredulous stares meet this announcement. Remus and Sirius exchanged confused glances. "James, you've loved Evans ever since she first stepped through the charms classroom door," said Sirius, staring at his friend. "Now you've suddenly just '_gone off_' her?"_

"_Yep," was James only reply._

_Remus looked at Sirius again. "Are you sure?" he asked, tentatively, in case James was still a little mad at him._

"_Yep," repeated James._

"_Look, what's wrong, James?" asked Sirius, face now showing concern. "If you can't tell us, who can – "_

"_I'm going now!" announced James, jumping to his feet and grabbing the invisibility cloak._

"_Going?" repeated Remus, confused. "Where?"_

"_To get the extra potions ingredients we need," explained James, before dashing out of the room and through the corridor outside, leaving an astonished Padfoot and a thoughtful Moony staring after him._

Remus sighed as he bit into the toast he was holding. When James had come back, he had been almost normal again. Sirius had forgotten almost immediately, but Remus hadn't. What on Earth could James have heard that had made him act so strange. Not liking Lily Evans was almost an impossibility for the Quidditch Seeker – as involuntary as breathing. Something was definitely going on and Remus was going to make it his business to find out…

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

When dinner came around, Harry and Ron were ravenous. So, surprisingly enough, was Hermione. On Hermione's instructions they had skipped lunch and gone straight back to the library to do some more research. Harry's head was swimming with useless information about Samuel Wisewick, the inventor of self-levitating candles, Melissa Goodwing, founder of Witch Weekly and Erril Bask, the notable portkey specialist.

As soon as they entered the hall, all three waited impatiently for the teachers to arrive. Unfortunately, dinner (being the main meal of the day) required all members of staff and all students to be present correct on time – unlike in their own time, when everyone could turn up at whatever hour. They themselves had rushed from the Hospital Wing (followed by Madam Pomfrey's indignant speeches) where Harry had taken his vile potion again. He had to see if he would be allowed to keep some in his room so he wouldn't have to trek halfway across the school every morning, lunch and evening meal. Although he would prefer not to take it at all. Really, it was almost enough to put you off your food. Almost.

As Professors McGonagall, Flitwick and Kettleburn entered, discussing the most successful charms and spells to use on a dragon ('_Walking incredibly slowly, I might add,'_ thought Harry bitterly) Lily Evans plonked down next to them.

"Hi, guys!" she greeted, enthusiastically and grinning at them. "Some day, huh?"

Harry and Ron made non-committal noises whilst Hermione smiled at the red-head. "Yeah – double transfiguration was quite interesting. I didn't think that Professor McGonagall would tell us about the uses of transfiguration in a combat situation. I would have thought that would have been more the area of Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"Yeah, but we don't study it in that class. And it _is_ dark times." They paused for a moment, reflecting on the world raging out side of Hogwarts. Harry hadn't realised that the War was actually going on whilst his parents were at school, but it appeared the war had been going on for ten and a half years already. "Arithmancy, though – that was a killer!" groaned Lily. "Mind you, I found charms fun."

Hermione smiled. "You would," she told Harry's future mother. "You're a natural at it."

Lily blushed. "You think so?" she asked, shyly.

"You'd have to be blind not to see it," Hermione told Lily who went even redder.

And she and Lily started a debate surrounding the virtues of book studies against natural ability. Harry and Ron both rolled their eyes at each other and waited impatiently for Professor Dumbledore to arrive – he was the only one left. As he swept into the Hall at last, both Ron and Harry grabbed their cutlery.

"Let dinner be served!" said Dumbledore, joyously, and the food appeared upon the silver plates (the gold ones were only used for special occasions) and the two boys dug in.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

Hermione thought how nice it was, sitting in the Great Hall, talking to Lily about things that she could _never_ talk to Harry or Ron about. She loved them dearly, but they just did not appreciate the value of books and lessons. Lily was more like her and Hermione thought she could have been a great 'girl pal' if she had been alive in her time.

Their conversation halted slightly, as both of them began to eat. Hermione was really hungry. She had skipped breakfast and lunch to fit in more research and now was starving. To make matters worse, she still hadn't found anything that would have made this worthwhile. Theories on time travel were rare and just that – theories. She hadn't found much at all on time travel itself, but kept thinking back to her conversation with Dumbledore a while back.

'_I've usually found that there is a why to everything and, if you find out the why, you can usually find out how to send one back_.'

Hermione frowned as she chewed on her steak. Maybe if she found the why, then she would find the how. And she had the feeling that the why had to do with the creepy wizard whose face was plastered on the walls of that strange corridor.

It was too much coincidence not to be. After all, they had all cut their hands on the sword his statue was holding. Somewhere between entering the corridor and leaving it they had been transported back in time. And the thing – '_Malfoy_,' Hermione thought with a smirk – that had defeated him was now stalking Harry. '_And what was it that the statue had said? Tempus tempus?_'

So engrossed in her thoughts was Hermione that she didn't notice the soft singing for a while. Everyone else in the Hall did and looked on in astonishment as the singing got louder. Even the teachers were silent.

"**Love, love, love…"**

'_It sounds Latin_,' thought Hermione, frowning at the potatoes on her plate. '_Maybe I should look it up_.'

"**Love, love, love…"**

'_Wait a sec! Is that the_ Beatles_?'_

Hermione looked up in shock and almost fainted. The Slytherins were standing on their house table all swaying slightly. She blinked, unsure she was really seeing what she was seeing. '_Their robes… pink… oh my!_' she thought weakly.

The Slytherins were indeed now clothed in robes of softest pink and were softly singing.

"**Love, love, love!"**

With embarrassment rising, Hermione realised that they were all pointing to her. And then, the master of ceremonies stepped into the Hall and began to sing to her.

It was Sirius.

He, too, was clothed in different robes, though thankfully they weren't pink. Instead they were a deep red and in his hand he held - _roses?_

"_**There's nothing you can do that can't be done."**_

Now everyone was looking at Sirius. He didn't seem to mind too much, however, eyes fixed on hers.

"_**Nothing you can sing that can't be sung."**_

Hermione blinked – was that a piano playing? She turned around and blinked. Sitting at the staff table – or what used to be the Staff Table – was Professor Dumbledore, playing a pink piano. He had a look of surprise on his face as he realised what he was doing, making Hermione realise that he was under a spell. She was torn between anger and relief at this – anger at the Marauders for bewitching the Headmaster and relief that he wasn't doing this out of his own free will.

"_**Nothing you can say, but you can learn how to play the game. It's easy."**_

Now people were looking around, curious to know as to whom Sirius was singing to. Hermione look as if she couldn't hear or see the singing Sirius whilst looking even more embarrassed and wishing that she knew a spell that would let her sink through the floor. She groaned slightly as he walked towards her and the Slytherins drew in big breaths.

Here came the chorus…

"_**All you need is LOVE!"**_

To everyone's great shock – including their own – a pair of Hufflepuffs suddenly shot to their feet playing trumpets.

"_**All you need is LOVE!"**_

They trumpeting Hufflepuffs were joined by two Ravenclaw boys on flutes.

"_**All you need is love, LOVE!"**_

Enter three Gryffindors on saxophones, a solo Slytherin on the trombone and Professor Flitwick on the lead guitar (which happened to be bigger than him).

If Hermione had been embarrassed before, now she was practically _squirming_! Sirius was getting closer and closer to her, students staring at him in awe as he walked in between the house tables. Hermione had to admit that he looked very fit in those robes…'_Ew! No! That's just…wrong!_' she thought, mentally beating that blasphemous thought out of her head. '_He's…well, it's just wrong!_'

Now they were on the second verse and Sirius had reached her.

"_**There's nothing that you can make that can't be made."**_

He knelt down on one knee taking her hands and carried on singing, roses on her lap.

"_**No one you can save that can't be saved."**_

Now the Slytherins were slowly oo-ing and ah-ing along with Sirius.

"_**Nothing you can do but you can learn to be you in time. It's easy!"**_

And as the chorus came around again, Hermione saw the rest of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws jump to their feet and start joining in. With a horrified jolt, she realised that they weren't even under a spell.

"_**All you need is LOVE!**_

_**All you need is LOVE!**_

_**All you need is love, LOVE!**_

_**Love is all you need!"**_

As the third verse came around, Hermione sneaked a look at the staff table. Professor Dumbledore was still playing the pink piano, but he seemed to be enjoying it now. He had been joined by the rest of the 'musicians' who still looked astonished that they were playing instruments that had undoubtedly been forks and knives seconds earlier. Professor Flitwick had stood on a chair to ensure further success at playing his guitar.

The rest of the staff, however…

Professor McGonagall was sat stock still in her seat, the expression of shock still seemingly frozen on her face. Hermione watched more closely – McGonagall just did not go into shock – and saw the corner of her mouth twitch every now and then. '_Wait, Professor McGonagall thinks this is _funny_?_'

The rest of the staff were either in the same position as McGonagall or they were yelling at both the students and Dumbledore.

Well, they were trying to yell at the top of their voices, but evidently someone had put a silencing charm on them. At least they were trying to help her.

Hermione felt a small touch on her cheek and jumped, turning back to where Sirius was lightly stroking her cheek and singing.

"_**There's nothing you can know that isn't known,**_

_**Nothing you can see that isn't shown,**_

_**Nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be.**_

_**It's easy!"**_

Hermione made the very bad mistake of looking into Sirius' eyes right then. They were filled with something that freaked her out. It wasn't love – it couldn't be, this is _Sirius_ after all, the boy with the worst attention span since the people of ancient Troy. But then, what was it?

"_**All you need is LOVE!**_

_**All you need is LOVE!**_

_**All you need is love, LOVE!**_

_**Love is all you need!"**_

Hermione could not believe this was happening, even as Sirius got up off his feet (not before kissing her hand eloquently) and jumped up onto the table. The music stopped, but the singing didn't. By this point, everyone had gotten onto their feet and were singing loudly. Hermione was horrified to see that the students that had been playing the musical instruments earlier had now been were released from the spell, but were still happily joining in. Professor Dumbledore, for Merlin's sake, was singing and clapping his hands in time!

"_**All you need is LOVE!"**_

"_**All together now!"**_ cried Sirius, clapping his hands above his head, looking ecstatic. Pink confetti began to drift softly from the ceiling.

"_**All you need is LOVE!"**_

With a jump of shock – she seemed to be having a lot of these lately – Hermione noticed Harry was one of the ones singing. '_What on Earth…_' Ron, thankfully wasn't, but he was glaring at Sirius so hatefully that Hermione was surprised. Next to her, Lily still had her mouth open but wasn't dancing either. In fact, Lily looked jealous.

'_Jealous?'_ Hermione thought dizzily, even as Sirius cried, _**"Ev'ry body!"**_ '_Why, oh why, why _why_ is she jealous of this? I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy._' Pausing for a moment, she added with a faint smirk, _Maybe Malfoy._

"_**All you need is LOVE, LOVE!"**_

'_Or Snape?'_

"_**Love is all you need."**_

Sirius stopped singing, but the rest of the school didn't. In fact, the Slytherins began to hold hands and harmonise as they swayed as one: _**"Love is all you need! Love is all you need!"**_

Sirius got down from the table and once again knelt in front of Hermione. "Hermione, darling," he began, looking into her eyes. His voice could still be heard over the multitude of voices singing. '_He must have used a sonorous charm. Damn._' "From the very first moment I set eyes on your lovely bo – er, face, I have loved you."

Hermione tried to repress a snort – she didn't want to hurt his feelings, not after he'd gone to all this trouble! '_'Hurt _his _feelings'?_' she repeated to herself, half amused, even as Sirius made his puppy dog eyes at her. '_What about _my_ bloody feelings?_'

"So, I was just wondering," he continued, oblivious to her less then friendly thoughts about him, "would you like to go out with me?"

A lot of the students had broken off from their singing by now to watch the pair. Hermione, if possible, went even redder as all those stares looked to her expectantly. What was she going to do?

"Because," Sirius told her and took a deep breath – '_Oh, great, he's going to sing again!_' - _**"All I need is love!"**_

There was a fantastically ending, the Slytherins hitting the top notes perfectly whilst they swayed and raised their hands again towards Hermione. Then the song finished.

Silence ruled.

The Slytherins were still presumably under the spell Sirius had put them under otherwise they would be yelling furiously. The same for the teachers. But the rest of the Hall just stared at her expectantly.

'_HELP!'_

"Well, Hermione?" asked Sirius, face brightening in excitement.

"Er…"

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

Love,

Hannanora-Potter

~x~x~x~


	10. In which a Patronus goes wrong

**Title:** Time is a Healer

**Summary:** Harry, Ron and Hermione are suddenly and inexplicably thrown into the Marauders' sixth year at Hogwarts. Delighted with this chance to meet his parents and reunite with the recently deceased Sirius, Harry soon starts to cut his ties for the future, leaving Ron and Hermione seriously worried. And what's the monster that's starting to stalk Harry?

**Timeline and Spoilers:** Books 1 through 5, at the beginning of Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts (very beginning)

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and any related characters and setting are all the property of J.K. Rowling and not me.

**Extra:** '_blah_' = thoughts

_**Chapter Ten: In Which a Patronus Goes Wrong**_

"Er…"

"AWOOGA! AWOOGA!"

A great alarm resounded throughout the Great Hall, making everyone jump. It echoed off the stone walls until it reverberated throughout the entire castle. Sirius thankfully let go of her hand and jumped to his feet, looking around wildly. Hermione could see many others doing the same (excepting, of course, the Slytherins who were still swaying in their pink robes and humming the melody of "All You Need Is Love".)

It was clearly an alarm, yet, to Hermione's great astonishment, no one was panicking. They all looked a little scared, yes, but… Her mind slipped back to when Quirrel had run screaming in to the Great Hall during the Halloween feast, blabbering about a troll. Pandemonium. But here, everyone was as silent as death.

"Everyone back to their common rooms."

The dry voice of Professor Dumbledore made everyone jump again. They had completely forgotten about the teachers. Hermione glowered at the Headmaster. If he could have just gotten rid of the silencing spell like that, then he could easily have stopped the whole embarrassing episode just before. But the anger passed. Yes, he was eccentric, but he was also the most powerful wizard in the world.

Professor Dumbledore continued. "Prefects, you know the drill. Teachers…" Here he paused, as though reluctant to give them the order that would endanger their lives, "to the battlements."

Remus shot to his feet and headed in the direction of the first years who were looking extremely confused. They weren't the only one. Hermione had no clue what was going on. What drill?

Sirius pulled her to her feet. "Come on," he ordered, half dragging her across the floor. "It's an attack. We have to get to the common room." His usually joyous face was suddenly pinched and white. It suddenly struck Hermione how young he was – then she realised she was the same age. '_Between this war and ours, I don't suppose none of us really know what _real_ childhood is.'_ She sighed wistfully, before the entirety of Sirius' statement hit her.

"Under _attack_!" she gasped, incredulous. "But…V-Voldermort would never – I mean, this is _Hogwarts_ we're talking about!" she protested weakly, more than halfway across the Hall by now. Scared children were hurrying past her, each under the careful eye of a prefect or older student. The siren was still wailing overhead, grounding the whole situation in a cold reality.

"_**Love, love, love!**_"

At this, Hermione dug her heels in the ground – well, tried much harder to stop Sirius dragging her across the stone floor, anyway. "Sirius, you idiot!" she hissed, looking around to stare at the Slytherin table with annoyance. "You haven't taken the spell off the Slytherins!"

"_**Love, love, love!**_"

And, what was worse, they seemed to be starting to sing again.

"Ooops!" smirked Sirius, regaining some of his former cheer. His eyes twinkled merrily, the seriousness of the situation almost lost in the face of a house full of pink, smiling, singing Slytherins. "I dunno, 'Mione!" he mused, stroking his chin in mock thought, "I think I prefer them like this."

Hermione glared at him, although her mouth twitched. "Sirius, they could _die_!"

"I don't mind."

"_Sirius!_"

"Oh, alright, alright!" said Sirius casually, waving his hands as though releasing them had been his intention all along. The singing stopped suddenly as the Slytherins became aware of what they were doing. Hermione could see Snape blushing profusely as he let go of the hands of the two Slytherin boys that were standing either side of him. Most of them eventually settled their gaze, glaring directly at James and Sirius, who were admiring their handiwork.

For the Slytherins were still pink.

As soon as they realised this, the Slytherins fled as one.

Sirius laughed as they pelted out of the Hall, faces almost as pink as their robes. He stopped his laughter abruptly, as Hermione glared at him. "Hey!" he protested as Hermione opened her mouth. "There's nothing I could do – that's a permanent colour charm there! Me, James an' Moony spent ages developing it. Not even Dumbledore could take it off before it's due time. Besides," he added and his voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper, "they got out of here much faster than a death eater attack could ever manage!"

Hermione couldn't contain her snigger on that one. "Alright, but we'd better get going – look, there's hardly anyone here." And it was true. The last few stragglers were hurrying out through the doors, whispering urgently with friends. '_You know, the Hall looks strangely empty with no one in it._' Hermione then realised what she had just said and inwardly groaned. Of course the Hall looks empty with no one in it – that's because there is no one in it! '_Well, okay, I'm in it – and so is Sirius…Ok, bad way forward there!_'

What Hermione had been trying unsuccessfully to say, was that the Hall looked strange. It had always been full of people, laughing, talking, eating and fretting about homework. But now, there was no one. The food lay mostly uneaten on the table, pink confetti still softly drifting down from the ceiling, which was a beautiful midnight blue. In fact, Hermione might say it was almost romanti –

'_Stop. Right. THERE!_' Hermione told her mind forcefully. She had to get back to the common room!

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

The common room was much the same as normal, if more tense than before. People sat talking in clumps, whispering in worried voices and jumping at small noises. From their small corner of the common room Harry could see some people staring reflectively into the fire, lost in their thoughts. Harry rather wished he could join them. Instead, here he was listening to Ron ranting and raving under his breath about Sirius' move on Hermione.

"I can't believe it!" he was hissing, throwing dark glances at the Marauders. It didn't help that both Sirius and Hermione were missing from said group. Peter was talking excitably about something, whilst Moony was half listening and half reading "_Advanced Transfiguration – the most comprehensive revision guides to N.E.W.T.s_." It amused Harry to see, in small subscript, "_Fail and we'll give you your money back plus a free wand cloth!_"

But James… well, there was no other word for it. James was miserable as sin. He was sitting by a window, staring out across the grounds, where the battle was taking place, but even Harry could tell that he wasn't paying attention. His hazel eyes were unfocused, face, so like Harry's, highlighted every now and again with a flaring outside the window. He looked so miserable, in fact, that Harry was surprised that Wormtail had not even realised that James was no more paying him attention than he was going out with Snape. Remus had noticed; every now and then he would shoot worried glances at James.

It didn't fit at all with what Harry knew of his father – or even with what he had seen. Hadn't he been told all his life that his father had been a great man? Well, actually, he _had_ spent 10 years living with the Dursleys so he supposed that was a silly question. '_Rephrase: my dad is supposed to be one of the most infamous pranksters who have very attended Hogwarts. He and Sirius hold the school record for the number of school detentions in a year, he made the Marauders Map, is an illegal animagus and _always_ laughs._

_So why is he so depressed?_'

Harry had no more time to ponder this intriguing chain of thought as, that moment, in walked Sirius and Hermione. All attention in the common room turned immediately to them, talking ceased. Even James looked up from his reverie to stare at them. Both Ron and Hermione were turning red – Hermione most likely out of embarrassment and Ron out of anger.

But it appeared that Sirius had completely forgotten about Hermione and shot immediately over to his friends. Harry saw James force a smile on his face that was almost convincing – had Harry not seen his earlier state of depression. What ever was bothering James, he did not want Sirius to know.

Hermione practically ran over to him and Ron, cringing at all the suggestive glances and jealous glares she got from the other Gryffindors. As she sat next to them, everyone gradually turned back to whatever it was they had been doing before.

"Hi, Ron, Harry," greeted Hermione softly, not meeting their eyes.

"Hi," responded Harry, cheerfully enough.

Ron said nothing.

Hermione looked uncomfortable as the silence drew on. It did not help matters that Ron was watching Hermione with the air of a hawk about it's prey. Harry just sat there, unsure of what to say. He was on the verge of just leaving the two of them to go sit with the Marauders (even Peter's company was better than that of a sulking Ron and Hermione) when Ron spoke.

"So, what did you say?"

Hermione looked taken aback. "What do you mean?"

Ron's eyes narrowed and he leaned forward. "You know what I mean!" he hissed, angrily. "Lover boy Sirius over there. _What_. _Did_. _You_. _Say_."

Hermione blushed even more. "I haven't said anything – I'm kind of hoping that he'll forget all about it."

"Why?" asked Ron, still glaring at Hermione. "I'd of thought that you would enjoy that – centre of attention, Sirius on bended knee…"

It was now Hermione's turn to glare. "As a matter of fact I _don't_ Ron," she snapped, steadily becoming more and more like her usual bossy – and argumentative – self. "And why would you care, anyway? It's not like you're ever going to ask me out."

Ron was gaping like a gold fish.

"I don't _like_ Sirius," Hermione continued angrily. "He's arrogant, immature, hot tempered and, most of all, he's more than twice my bloody age!"

Harry – a bit affronted to all these faults attributed to his Godfather – was shocked to hear Hermione swear. '_This is a first_'. "I don't think that's very fair, Hermione," he said, looking hurt, "and anyway, he's our age at the moment."

Hermione turned to Harry, exasperated. "You just don't get it, do you!" she hissed at him, angrily. "When we get back, Harry, Sirius will not only be twice my age, he'll also be dead. And even if I do like Sirius, that's an impossible situation to work with!"

Ron leapt upon her last sentence in a kind of bitter triumph. "Aha!" he cried angrily. "So you _do_ like Sirius!"

"No I _don't_, Ron!" exclaimed Hermione, exasperated.

"Why, what's wrong with him?" asked Harry, glaring at her.

"Hey, whose bloody side are you _on_, Harry!" snapped Ron.

"Well, it's not like _you've_ ever made a move, Ron," retorted Harry, "so I don't see why you should have a go at someone who does!"

"Doesn't mean I won't ever!" protested Ron, angrily, momentarily forgetting Hermione's presence (who was turning red). Their voices were getting louder and louder. "Besides, it's like Hermione said. When we get back he'll be – "

"We're not going to get back!" yelled Harry, jumping to his feet. Everything went quiet around them. "Never ever! We looked, we tried, we failed, so just get on with it for Merlin's sake!"

There was a shocked silence. Both Ron and Harry were breathing harshly, glaring at each other, completely unaware of the stares attributed them by the rest of Gryffindor House. In the odd silence, the noises of battle could just be made out, an angry yell here, a shouted spell there and a few inhuman screeches that sent shivers down one's spine.

Hermione was the first to recover. Blushing once again, she reached up and yanked Harry back into his seat. "Shut up, Harry," she whispered as he fell down, seemingly surprised that his feet were no longer supporting him. "The whole common room's staring at us. Do you want them to find out that we're…well, do you?"

Numbly Harry shook his head. For the second time that evening, normality returned to the common room – well, as normal as Gryffindor tower could be at any rate. Harry's face was looking slightly pinched and pale. A quick grimace of pain marred his features before he once again stood up.

"I'm going to the Hospital Wing," he told them, his voice a little cooler than normal. "My hand is hurting again."

"Harry, it's not safe!" Hermione cried, worried, but Harry hadn't heard her and, even if he had, he paid her warning no attention. The portrait hole opened and he disappeared, out of sight.

Hermione and Ron exchanged worried glances. Through some silent vow, they promised not to talk about Sirius – at least not yet.

"What was all that about?" Ron asked Hermione, confused. They both had noticed the changes wrought in Harry, but now…

Hermione shook her head, wearily. "I don't know, Ron. I just don't know." She put her head in her hands and groaned. "I mean, I know that we've looked through hundreds of books and haven't found a single thing but that doesn't mean that all hope is lost." There was a slight pause, in which Hermione raised her head to look Ron in the eye. "Does it?"

Ron, luckily was saved an answer by the sudden appearance of Sirius by Hermione's side. Ron managed to repress the need to growl – barely – before saying, "Hi, Sirius!" His tone was colder then usual, but Sirius didn't notice.

"Hi, Ron!" returned Sirius, cheerfully. "Do you two want to come sit with us?" He jerked his head in the direction of the window where his friends were all watching them. Remus and Peter offered a smile, whereas James managed a neutral expression.

"Yeah, sure," answered Hermione, smiling back up at him. What else was she going to say? What else could she say? As she and Ron made their way over to the Marauders – albeit Ron a tad reluctantly – Hermione's stomach filled with butterflies. '_Please, please, _please_ let this not be about the question!' _she prayed silently._ 'Please, Merlin, don't be that cruel!_'

She sat down, careful to sit as close to Ron and as far away from Sirius as possible. There was a slight, yet unmistakable tang of uneasiness and tension between them, though she couldn't imagine why. None of them seemed to have anything to say. Her back was straight and her fists clenched her robes unmercifully. Her legs tensed as Sirius opened his mouth, ready to bolt. But she needn't have worried.

"So, did your old school have stuff like this?" he asked, words seeming to be laced with hidden meaning. A secret smile seemed to be playing around his lips. What did he know that they didn't?

Besides her, Ron had frozen, looking panicky, so Hermione had to step in with a casual comment. "No – it was much smaller," she informed him, relaxing back slightly into the sofa. "But what little grounds we had were really beautiful. We fountains, walled gardens and _flowers_." She put a slightly elegant sneer onto that part. She loved the Hogwarts grounds immensely, but she did miss flowers.

Sirius looked at her in mock indignation. "We have flowers here!"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?" she asked, traces of sarcasm evident in her voice. "Pray, do tell."

"Well, we have grass, dandelions and daisies," began Sirius, but he was cut off as Remus gave a shout of laughter.

"They're _weeds_, Padfoot, you idiot!" he laughed, hitting Sirius playfully over the head.

Hermione laughed, as did everyone else. The tension that had been present before hand vanished and everyone chatted much more freely than before; about Marchbanks, Hogwarts, Quidditch (to Hermione's disgust) and school work (to everyone's disgust apart from Remus' and Hermione's).

Finally, Hermione brought round the question she had been dying to ask, ever since the alarm went off in the Great Hall. "Er, Sirius, James?" she asked tentatively. They looked at her and she fidgeted under their unwavering gaze – Sirius' full of laughter and James' full of what looked incredibly like sadness – and continued. "Who's attacking? Is it, well, Voldermort?" Ron and Peter flinched at the name, but the others just looked vaguely surprised by her question.

"Yeah, it is," said Sirius, his gaze no longer merry. His dark eyes looked troubled, his mouth falling into a tight line.

Hermione and Ron both looked shocked. "But – why are we all sitting here?" asked Ron, confused and slightly panicky. "Shouldn't we be fighting? Or at least getting the hell out of here?"

Hermione gave Ron an annoyed glare, but let the swear word go. She, too, was curious.

James gave a short laugh that held no humour in it. "Well, if we ran away every time Lord Voldermort attacked, we'd never get any school work done!" At Ron and Hermione's continuingly blank stares, he added, "This sort of thing happens all the time, you know."

Hermione gasped. "But – surely he has no hope of getting through!" she protested, mind racing through the pages of "_Hogwarts, a History_" that she had long since memorised. "Hogwarts has got to be the safest place in the world! It has so many magical defences! And surely he hasn't got the numbers for it?" The last was more like a plea than a question.

Remus was shaking his head. "I know Hermione," he sighed, looking weary. Suddenly, the energetic sixteen year old they had come to know was replaced with the prematurely aged man that had taught them DADA in their third year. "But even Hogwarts magical defences can only take so much. At the moment the Dark Lord is concentrating on defeating the Ministry and the aurors. He has a lot of time to let the Hogwarts defences wear down until they are no better than tissue paper. Then he'll stride in and only have to deal with fourteen or so teachers and a bunch of kids. Easy. And if he manages to get rid of one more possible opponent in each attack, so be it."

The two time-travellers were lost for words. They had been told all their lives that the first war was a time of hopelessness, despair and death. But knowing that and living it were two completely different things. Their shocked reverie was interrupted by an almost casual comment from Sirius.

"He just doesn't want Dumbledore to think he's forgotten us," he told them, eyes smouldering with hidden rage. "Fear is his tool – and he's going to use it as much he can."

They sat in silence, each of them lost in their thoughts. Four of them were wondering about the future and the horrors it might bring. But for two of their number, their thoughts dwelt on the past and the horrors it did bring.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

The next day dawned sunny and bright – a typical September morning. The sun beams struck the grounds and lake, a strong wind causing the water to ripple, sun reflecting off it's surface. All that was left to show that a battle had taken place the eve before was a circle of scorched ground.

James shivered unconsciously as he sat in the dungeon, half paying attention to Groll's lectures on Veritaserum. They had finished the preliminary work for the potion and now they had to leave it to simmer for 15 days, 15 hours and 15 minutes, so, naturally, the estimable(!) Groll had decided to go through the tedious theory. The Professor had – much to everyone's immense disappointment – been deemed well enough to go back to teaching, although she was much more subdued and visibly jumped when Ron spoke to her.

As always, the brilliant sunbeams seemed to stop just short of warming the freezing dungeons. It had been announced at breakfast that the attack was unsuccessful – four dragons and six death eaters had invaded the grounds. The death eaters had left quickly, but the dragons had taken nearly all night to defeat. Many in Gryffindor Tower had been unable to sleep due to the inhuman roars that penetrated the night.

"Now, can anyone tell me what Veritaserum is?" Groll asked, voice higher and louder than usual. It seemed to be out of nervousness.

Several hands were raised. James was not overly surprised to see Hermione's hand shoot in to the air. He saw Ron roll his eyes and placed his head in his arms with a thud. Lily's delicate hands were also raised, as were Remus' and Snivellus'. To no one's surprise, she picked Snape (her favourite) to answer.

"Veritaserum is a truth potion, the only one that is not considered poisonous," he drawled, voice as slimy as his hair. "When administered to someone, they will answer any question you ask them truthfully – they cannot lie."

"Excellent, Snape – 10 points to Slytherin!" smirked Groll, yellow hands clutching a piece of chalk. "At least _someone_ has been doing a bit of extra reading, especially considering the fact that we have been making it in class." She pointedly ignored all the other raised hands. "And now, can anyone tell me, what is the recommended administration?"

No one raised his or her hand this time – James was surprised. Hermione looked guilty – as though she had failed somehow. Then, to everyone's astonishment, Harry – his son – slowly raised his hand.

"Three drops, Professor," he spoke quietly.

"Correct, Potter," said Groll, although her words seemed to be barely repressing a snarl. "That will be ten points…" There was a deep intake of breath – surely she wasn't going to give _Gryffindor_ points? "…from Gryffindor for not waiting for permission to speak."

James was annoyed – not only on behalf of his house – just as a good Gryffindor should be – but also on behalf of his son. He wasn't sure why. He hardly knew the kid. Maybe it was how he looked so…well, alone. Filled with pain when he though no one was looking. He knew that Harry was having a hard time getting over Sirius' death, but then, so was James. It looked to James as if Harry was quite happy where he was – in the common room last night it sounded as if he had given up hope. Almost as if he had wanted there to be no way to go back. But why?

Harry's eyes flashed angrily at Groll for a second, but then he relaxed. James blinked – was that a small smile on his face?

"I know that you have all been making a small sample of Veritaserum in your pairs, but we are not actually going to test it out on each other," she informed them, reaching up with the chalk to scratch out two words on the black board, the sound shivering uncomfortably through the air: Moral and Immoral. "I know what you're like in this class" – here her eyes latched meaningfully onto James and Sirius who immediately donned innocent expressions – "and you would reek havoc upon your class mates. So, instead, we will be looking at when it is moral to use veritaserum and when it is not."

Harry's face had gone from amusement to grim in a matter of seconds and he glanced over to Sirius, eyes full of pain. James really didn't understand. What had veritaserum to do with Sirius? And – no offence to Padfoot – why and how could Harry love him so much that he'd want to stay in the past, forever separated from him and Lily? It was a terrible thing to lose someone that close to you, but surely there were more people worth living for? Ron and Hermione must be helping him, but from what James had seen, they weren't doing a very good job of it.

Maybe he should help. After all, he was Harry's father, albeit a teenaged version. James couldn't imagine why he hadn't been helping Harry in the first place – his future one, that is. But maybe this was it. Harry was a teenager. Future James was an adult. I mean James loved _his_ Dad, but still…he wouldn't be the first person he'd talk to. It wasn't easy, opening up to parents. Maybe Harry needed someone like him. Someone he could count on to listen. He suspected that Hermione was more of the talker than the listener. Same went for Ron.

But should he? Could he help? It was none of his business really and hadn't he promised himself that, from now on, Sirius would come first? Yes, he had…but Harry was in trouble now. Being eaten away by grief and the fear that comes with it. And he was James' son…

'_What should I do?_'

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

"I know that you have all been making a small sample of Veritaserum in your pairs, but we are not actually going to test it out on each other," Groll informed them, reaching up with the chalk to scratch out two words on the black board, the sound shivering uncomfortably through the air: Moral and Immoral. "I know what you're like in this class" – here her eyes latched meaningfully onto James and Sirius who immediately donned innocent expressions – "and you would reek havoc upon your class mates. So, instead, we will be looking at when it is moral to use veritaserum and when it is not."

Harry felt the small grin of amusement slide off his face. Sirius should have had the chance for Veritaserum at his trial. Hell, Sirius should have had a trial. Unable to resist it, Harry sneaked a glance at Sirius over his shoulder. Sirius hadn't noticed him – he was too busy trying to charm his pen to tap dance and sing. Sighing slightly, Harry wrenched his gaze to the front. Ordinarily he would boycott a class debate like this, but if he ignored this one he wouldn't be doing right by Sirius.

"Well, who's got enough brain cells in this class to actually form an opinion about this?" sneered Groll, black eyes flashing nastily pointing her stick like arm at Snape. "You, Severus – I can see you have an air of intelligence about you."

The afore mentioned Snape smirked smugly. "Well, I think that Veritaserum is a handy tool for interrogating certain, ah, rule breakers." Here, he and the rest of the Slytherins shot pointed glares at the Marauders. Harry, despite his seething anger, couldn't suppress a snort of laughter. He'd almost forgotten about the prank yesterday. The Slytherins were no longer pink, so Harry supposed that they must have changed their robes as Sirius had told him that they spell actually lasted a fortnight. He and James were planning on sneaking in there one night and taking all their spares so all they had to wear were the pink ones. "Plus, it'll be good for parties."

"You can't be serious!" cried Lily, jumping to her feet, furiously. "That's not a good reason to use the potion – it's more like cruel torture! I don't think it _ever _should be used – nothing gives a person the right to invade another's privacy, divulge their innermost secrets."

A lot of people nodded their heads at this, but Groll was scowling. "I did not ask for your opinion, you annoying brat!" she snapped, hand unconsciously reaching for her wand, as if she'd very much like to curse Lily. Harry was astounded – he had never heard anyone speak to a student like that – except maybe that DADA class in third year. But what was even more surprising was when no one reacted. Even Ron had leaped to Hermione's defence in that class!

"Fifty points from Gryffindor." Groll was breathing heavily as she glared with immense hate at Lily. Harry was surprised at the level of hatred evident in her glare. What on Earth had Lily done to deserve that?

"We'll have a vote, shall we?" asked Groll, although there was not much room left for choice in her screech of a voice. "All those who agree with Severus over here, raise your hand." Snape of course, raised his hand and so did most of the Slytherins. But not all of them, Harry was surprised to see. Maybe his stereotypical view of Slytherins was wrong after all.

"All those who agree with Miss Evans?"

The rest of the class raised their hands. Harry, Ron and Hermione, however, kept their hands lowered. Groll saw this and pounced on them immediately. "Potter, Wesley, Granger! Why have you not voted?" she snapped, snaking her way forward, like a hunter moving for the kill. "This is not an optional exercise."

Harry spoke for all three. "I know, Professor, but we hold a different opinion," he informed her, voice strong wit conviction and burning anger. "Veritaserum should be used in court cases – to verify whether a murderer is really a murderer – or innocent." His eyes flicked to Sirius again, pain burning through him.

Groll stared at him, confused with all the pain she could sense. Harry swallowed and tried to make his tone sound more casual, but it was hard. "Eye witnesses can be wrong," he said, anger rising, loosing control. "In a time of war, people keep things closer to their chests – it's a time full of trickery and deceit!" The hate towards the Ministry of Magic was boiling in him now. If they had only thought – if they had only given him a fair trial – none of this would ever have happened! "I mean, we live in a world of MAGIC, for Merlin's sake!" he yelled, suddenly on his feet, power coursing through his veins as never before. "Do people not stop to think that there might be more than MEETS THE EYE!" The desk was shaking as a result of his anger. Groll had shot backwards, tripping as the floor started to convulse, staring at him in astonishment. The hate and anger and grief fed him and then…

Nothing.

"Ow!" Harry stopped, suddenly weaker than ever before, to stare at his hand. Another spasm of pain lanced across it, making him wince. Maybe he should go get a top-up of the blood replenishing potion. It was his first Quidditch practice today and there was no way he was going to miss that – life threatening wound or no. He picked up his bag, not even having bothered to take out any of his books or writing material in the first place, and left the classroom, heading for the Hospital Wing.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

The rest of the Sixth Year Slytherin and Gryffindor Potions class stared after Harry Potter, long after he had vanished through the moulding wooden door and out of sight. There was a slight growl from the front of the classroom and everyone's head swivelled towards the teacher's desk in time to see Groll struggle to her feet. Her black hair was knotted and straggly.

"FIFTY POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR!"

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

As James walked through the numerous bookshelves of the library, he felt a twinge of worry. '_Is this the right thing to do?_' he thought, but then pushed his worries aside. Harry needed help – his _son_ needed help – and James felt he was the best person to do it. Besides, he wasn't actually going to see Harry – Harry was outside at Quidditch practice with Sirius. James felt another small twinge – this one of annoyance that he wasn't on the team anymore – but brushed that one of, too. If he had been at the Quidditch Practice then he wouldn't be able to talk to Ron and Hermione. Remus was helping Peter with their transfiguration homework, but James had already done that, leaving him free to talk to the two time-travellers. He knew they'd be in the library – Hermione was _always_ in the library, so he walked quietly through the many shelves, trying to spot them before they spotted him.

"…I'm telling you, Ron – that's the why!"

Hermione's irritated voice drifted to him through the dusty layers of books. James stopped, ears straining to hear.

"I still don't see why there's got to be a _why_, 'Mione!" protested Ron, who sounded unconvinced of his own argument, but as though he couldn't face the alternative.

As James began to edge closer to them, he heard Hermione's sigh. "I've _told_ you, Ron!" she snapped, although it was half hearted. "Dumbledore said there's always a why and I believe him. It makes sense, if you think about it. After all, that corridor only appeared to us and when we went down that corridor, voila, we get sent back in time. That means – "

"Alright, alright!" cried Ron, hurriedly. It seemed like Hermione's talk could gone for a couple of hours. "So there's a why. But, Hermione, helping Harry is what we've been trying to do for… well, ever since it happened. He doesn't listen to us. We need someone else!"

James, having spied the duo around a section of shelves on The History of Arithmancy, decided now would be a good time to enter the conversation. Retreating a few steps, so they didn't think he had been eaves dropping – which he had – and came noisily up the shelves. As he turned the corner, Hermione's and Ron's pale faces stared guiltily up at them. They had both shot to their feet as he came round the corner.

"Hi," he said, forcing a small smile on his face.

"Hi," they responded. There was a brief pause, which stretched out into a long silence. James wasn't sure how to begin – now that he was actually here, his nerve was failing him rapidly. '_My nerve's failing me?_' he thought, slightly angry at himself. '_Come on, James – you're a Gryffindor! House of the courageous. Now open your mouth and speak!_'

"I know."

Hermione jumped. "Know what?" she asked, attempting a shot at a casual tone, but James could clearly see the fear evident in her eyes.

"I know when you're from," he replied simply. Hermione looked as if she were about to faint, her already pale face going white as she sat down in her seat. Ron's ears were going red, mouth hanging open much like it had when they first met. Seeing they were unable to say anything, James rushed on. "Look, I'm not here to ask questions about the future or anything but I know that Harry is my, well, my son." There, he had said it out loud. This urged him on. "And I also know that he needs help getting over…" He wasn't ready to say Sirius or Padfoot yet. That would make it too final. "Well, help getting over my…his…" No, "my best friend's death" was still too clear – in fact, it was worse, because it could also imply Moony and Wormtail. "His Godfather's death" was also too final. He finally settled on the impersonal touch. "_The_ death," he finished. He was sure they must know whom he meant. After all, how many people could have died? "I thought, seeing as I _am_ his father, maybe I could help."

Both stared at him, completely lost for words. Then Hermione started crying.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

Hermione had been jumpy all day. Harry's shocking loss of temper in potions had given her a clue. By the time Care of Magical came around after break, Harry was back in class. His usual, cheerful self. Both Hermione and Ron had tried to corner him about it, but Harry just laughed them off and spent the lesson talking to the Marauders. By the time dinner came around, they had given up hope.

Now Hermione was waiting in the library for Ron. Slowly, all the pieces were beginning to fall together. After dinner she had – naturally – shot off to the library to help her think, leaving Harry with Ron. They had arranged to meet in the library after Harry went to Quidditch practice and Ron was running late.

A great clattering noise met her and she looked up to see Ron running towards her, out of breath, raising a small cloud of dust behind him. This part of the library – the historical section – was right at the end of the library and not much used. It was perfect for them.

"So-sorry, Her-mione!" he gasped, freckled face flushed as he collapsed into a seat. "Sirius was setting up a prank on the Slytherins and I…" He trailed off at the look on her face.

"Never mind, Ron," she shushed him, taking her seat herself. She had been pacing anxiously for the past five minutes and had made a noticeable clean spot on the dusty floor. "I've been thinking about the why."

"The _what_?" asked Ron, perplexed.

Hermione rolled her eyes in exasperation. "The _why_, Ron. Dumbledore said, "_I've usually found that there is a why to everything and, if you find out the why, then you can usually find out how to send one back._""

"Fine, whatever," said Ron, nodding his head absently. "But I still think that there doesn't have to be a why, Hermione. I mean, that time-turner sends you back in time and it doesn't have a why to it. That's just how it's made."

'_Hmmm…that's true_,' thought Hermione, frowning. '_But I've got to go with Dumbledore_.' "Dumbledore said it, Ron," she reminded him, "and Dumbledore's nearly always right."

"Fine, fine," said Ron, grumpily, putting his head between his arms. "So, what do you think?"

Hermione grinned, glad to reveal her theory. "Ron, when did you first notice your hand had stopped hurting?"

Ron's head lifted off his arms as he gave her a confused glance. "Huh?"

She just stared expectantly at him.

Ron sighed and creased his forehead up in memory. Why did he have the feeling that she knew something he didn't? He wasn't too sure when – something like that hadn't seemed especially important at the time. '_Ah! Got it!_' He opened his eyes and stared back at his best friend.

"Well, I was in the hospital wing, I _think_. We were waiting for Harry and we were talking about Harry and how he was acting different since…well, you know, Sirius' death and since he'd been here, especially."

Hermione was taking on a thoughtful expression now. "Oh, yes, I remember," she said vaguely. "I was talking about how we had to accept that he was dead and you – " her eyes grew sharp as she looked at him with an enlightened expression – "You said, "Yeah, Sirius is gone."!"

Hermione looked totally delighted at this, which Ron thought was very strange. Her eyes had lit up in a way he hadn't seen for ages. Her cheeks were flushed and her mouth curved up into a beautiful smile… '_Ron! Concentrate_.'

"Why are you so happy?" he demanded, completely at a loss as to what was going on. "Sirius' death is not a good thing, Hermione!"

Hermione's face drooped slightly, but then she shook her head, smiling again. "No, you don't understand," she insisted, excitement almost making her bounce in her chair. "When you said that, I bet you it was the first time that you'd really accepted that, really believed what it meant and were ready to live with it! Weren't you?" she added, uncertainly, as Ron continued to stare at her blankly.

"Well, I suppose so," he said slowly, frowning, but more in thought than in annoyance. "But I don't see what that has to do with…" His voice trailed off as he remembered;

_"Yeah," agreed Ron, looking up at the ceiling, feeling depressed, but, for once, really realising the truth of his words. "Sirius is gone."_

'What the - ?'_A strange tingling sensation had just wormed itself down Ron's arm. Ron jumped and stared at his arm. Just as suddenly as it started, the tingling sensation stopped and the dull ache that had been annoying him for ages, went._

He looked up at Hermione, comprehension dawning in his eyes. "After I'd accepted Sirius' death, the pain went," he breathed, astonished. Hermione nodded, her face shining with excitement and triumph.

"The same thing happened to me," she told him, leaning forward. "And do you remember what Harry was yelling _before_ his hand suddenly got worse?"

Ron's eyes widened as his mind flicked back again. '_What was it Harry had said?_' he wondered, searching his mind for the reclusive memory…

_"He's not dead," Harry stated and then just fell silent._

_"Yes, he is Harry!" retorted Hermione. "He died in the Department of Mysteries in the summer! You've got to get over this!" She was shouting now. "SIRIUS - IS - DEAD!"_

_Harry jumped to his feet. "HE IS NOT DEAD!" Harry bellowed, the smile wiped off his face. He was red faced with anger and Ron saw Hermione shrink back in her seat. "HE IS ALIVE AND WELL AND HAPPY!"_

_"Here, yes, Harry - but not in our time!" Hermione explained, speaking slowly and quietly, as though to a child. "And when we get back - "_

_"I don't want to go back!" yelled Harry. "You don't get it, do you? He shouldn't have died - it was all my fault - but here he's alive and well. I don't want to loose him again!"_

_"You've got to accept it, Harry," she snapped, taking a deep breath. The words seemed to choke her as they forced their way out of her mouth. "Sirius is dead - gone, deceased - and there is nothing you can do to get him back. He's gone for ever, Harry!"_

_Ron watched Harry, still in shock. Of course they were going to get back, what was Harry on about? Suddenly, both Harry and Hermione looked towards their hands. Hermione's face was confused and surprised, but the look on Harry's face was one of pure agony. As Harry turned pale, he fell to the floor and landed with a thud. Harry was lying on the floor, face pale and blood oozing out of his hand.*_

"He was in denial," whispered Hermione, sadly, almost as if she had seen Ron's memories play in his mind. Her triumphant expression had been replaced by one filled with worry and sadness. "He needs to get over Sirius death. We accepted it and we got better. He's ignoring it and he's just getting worse. If he carried on like this, he'll die." She took a deep breath, face pale and eyes filling with tears that she hurriedly blinked away. "We've got to help him Ron. I'm telling you, Ron – this is the why."

Ron found himself nodding and scowled. '_No way!_' he protested. '_Someone – some_thing_ - sent us back in time so we could get over Sirius' death? Hello? Is it just me or is this all just a bit too farfetched?_' "I still don't see why there's got to be a _why_, 'Mione!" he protested, though even to his ears it sounded unconvincing, lacking conviction.

"I've _told_ you, Ron!" Hermione snapped, although it was half hearted. "Dumbledore said there's always a why and I believe him. It makes sense, if you think about it. After all, that corridor only appeared to us and when we went down that corridor, voila, we get sent back in time. That means – "

"Alright, alright!" cried Ron, hurriedly. He had a feeling that this talk could go on for a few more hours if he let it. Besides, in his heart of hearts, he knew this was the reason. Everything tied together too neatly too be pure coincidence. He just didn't like what Hermione was implying. "So there's a why. But, Hermione, helping Harry is what we've been trying to do for… well, ever since it happened. He doesn't listen to us. We need someone else!"

Almost as if on cue, they heard noisy footsteps coming their way. They jumped guiltily to their feet, sure it was Harry. For a second, Ron thought it was him, but a closer look proved it to be James. That, however, did not mean they could relax.

"Hi," James greeted, smiling slightly at them.

"Hi," Ron replied, hearing Hermione doing the same. After that followed a rather uncomfortable silence. Ron just didn't know what to say to James. What on Earth could they talk about?

James seemed to be trying to say something, looking to be having a fierce internal battle. Then, finally, he opened his mouth. "I know."

The effect of this simple statement would have been hilarious if the consequences weren't so dire. Hermione actually jumped, whereas Ron was sure his heart had stopped beating for a few seconds. '_It could mean anything_' Ron told himself, forcefully, trying not to panic. '_He could be talking about something else – he doesn't know…'_ But he knew exactly what James was talking about.

"Know what?" asked Hermione. Her tone was casual – she was trying to bluff it out – but Ron knew it was pointless.

"I know when you're from." Now Ron's heart really did stop for a few moments. 'H_ow can he know? How can he know?_' he asked himself, over and over. Hermione next to him actually fell down into her seat. '_Oh, this is bad, very bad…'_ He knew his mouth was hanging open but he didn't care. He could also feel his ears heating up. But, again, his appearance wasn't the most important thing on his mind right now.

James seemed to feel their discomfort and rushed on. "Look, I'm not here to ask questions about the future or anything but I know that Harry is my, well, my son." Ron's knees were beginning to shake. How could they possibly know that? "And I also know that he needs help getting over…" Ron was pretty sure that nothing could surprise him now. He was prepared for anything. James seemed to have a bit of trouble saying what he was saying and began again.

"Well, help getting over my…his…" Ok, Ron was having a very bad feeling about the end of this sentence. '_Please tell me it's not what I'm about to hear!_' he silently prayed, to which ever kind deity was listening and feeling in a gracious mood. '_Please – I think I know where this is going and please let me be wrong…'_

"_The_ death," James finished. Ron had gone numb. Complete and utter shock, pity and, most of all, horror overtook his senses. James rushed on, awkward with the silence. "I thought, seeing as I _am_ his father, maybe I could help."

Hermione and Ron both stared at him. Neither could imagine what was going through James' mind. '_Sweet Merlin_,' thought Ron, feeling an unearthly shiver run down his spine. '_To_ _know that you are doomed to die in only a few years. The utter horror of it. No one should go through that…'_ He was speechless and thoughtless. Nothing could put into meaning the horror that he was feeling right now. It overwhelmed him until he was no longer aware of the room or Hermione or James.

A small sob reached his ears and he was dragged back to Earth.

Hermione had begun to cry.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

Harry was the last one to leave the Quidditch Pitch after practice that night. The air was cold and made him shiver as he slowly trudged up to the castle. The others had gone ahead of him, all of them chapped and nearly numbed with cold. The brightness and warmth brought by the sun had all but vanished, the fierce wind remaining, however, to snag away all body-heat. Keen to get out if the cold, the others had run on ahead, but Harry, who had borrowed one of the school brooms (a much better one than the one he had used in try outs, thankfully), had to return it to the broom cupboard on the other side of the Quidditch pitch.

Although it made him shiver, Harry didn't mind the cold. He was still warm from practice and the happy, warm glow that was forming inside his chest left him seemingly immune to anything. He was here. He was happy. He was with Sirius. And, what's more, he was also with his parents. He laughed as he remembered how disgusted he had been with his father's behaviour in the Snape's Pensieve. He was too old – an old man back then. He had had too many responsibilities flung on his back. What had he ever wanted but a childhood? A chance to be irresponsible, reckless and have fun.

Now, however, he was free of all that responsibility. He had a chance to be with Sirius again. He was a no-one. He could go around, play pranks – become a world-famous Quidditch Player. That's what Sirius wanted to be as well. Maybe they could get on the same team and be famous…

'_But wait! Aren't I already famous? I've been famous and I've hated it. What is wrong with me?_'

A part of him registered that he wasn't exactly himself. He wasn't being Harry, he was trying to be someone else. '_Well, what good is it to be Harry?_' he thought, angrily, rebelling against his earlier doubts. '_What good is Harry – all he ever does is get people killed…'_

He choked back a sob, seeing again and again Sirius falling and falling, into that black veil. The pain of it still tore at him. It was like being ripped apart. Tears clouded his eyes and he stumbled on the rough ground. He didn't know how to deal with this pain. He had tried ignoring it, but it wouldn't go away. In fact, it just got worse.

But he couldn't accept it. "Sirius was alive. _Is_ alive, right now!" he whispered, fighting back the anguish. "He's here now, so none of that matters."

"Grrrr…"

Harry froze, sliding tears making tracks on a face dust covered from Quidditch. It couldn't be. He turned around, every instinct screaming at him to run. Behind him was…

Blackness.

Harry sighed, relieved. There was nothing there and he trod onwards. He was almost up to the front doors when he heard it again. Another growl, low, threatening and…familiar?

He turned and jumped. Staring at him from the endless black blanketing the Hogwarts grounds were two eyes. Two red eyes. Harry's numb mind immediately jumped to Voldermort, but no. Why would the Voldermort of now be here, looking for Harry? Besides, Voldermort didn't growl.

Suddenly, the eyes moved, moving towards him at incredible speed. Harry gave a yell and launched himself out of the way. As the thing landed, the weak yellow glow from the torches by the Entrance Hall illuminated the monstrous from.

'_Oh, crap_,' thought Harry, watching saliva drool down the things rotting fangs. '_Mr Malfoy's come to pay me another visit. How sweet_.'

Jokes and sarcasm aside, Harry needed to get out of here and fast. The only problem was, now Malfoy stood between him and the safety of Hogwarts. His wand was, once again, throbbing painfully. He wasn't sure he could even move it, let alone do magic with it. And he wasn't sure how good he was at magic with his left hand – if he could do it at all. Brute Force was out as well. So, what was he going to do?

As if on cue, Hermione's voice came floating back into his mind: _"And it sounds rather familiar to a dementor…"_

'_Right_.' Steeling himself, Harry grabbed his wand with his throbbing hand. Ignoring the immense pain it sent screaming to his head, he thought of the best memory he had had. '_Got it – the prank from yesterday!_' Even as he braced himself for the charm, he couldn't help giggling at the memory. "_EXPECTO PATRONUM_!" Harry bellowed, concentrating fully on the image of Professor Dumbledore playing the piano and Sirius' face as her knelt down in front of Hermione. When he saw what came out of his wand, Harry was shocked.

Something had gone horribly wrong.

True, the thing that had come out of his wand was a corporeal stag, but it was _black_. It seemed to suck all the light in towards it. It vaguely reminded Harry of something he seen on the end of a science program on the television one summer on space phenomenon. It seemed almost like a black hole.

But suddenly, Harry couldn't see the perverted patronus he had produced. He couldn't see Malfoy. All he could see was Sirius – falling into the veil only to fall again. All he could feel was the rush of anguish and pain and guilt. And the longing.

A little voice was whispering in Harry's head, urging him to give it all up, stop struggling. Then he would see the Sirius again. This time it was much harder to resist. The inner turmoil of emotions was like a flash flood and Harry was drowning in it all. But he had to fight back…he wasn't ready to die yet.

It took a lot longer than before and all his strength seemed to be sapping quietly out of him. Wherever he turned, Sirius was there, dying. Every little detail was etched – no, burned – into Harry's mind, onto his memory. Harry felt himself moving forwards…closer and closer to the veil, his will surrendering and sapping away bit by bit. Then, as though from very far away, he heard a voice cry "_FINITE INCANTATUM_!"

Sirius vanished and Harry found himself back on Hogwarts grounds facing Malfoy. It took a while for him to realise that the shouted spell had come from him.

The monster growled at Harry but did not approach. It seemed wary of him. But it still wasn't moving. Harry was almost too scared to attempt the patronus again. He still wasn't sure what had happened. But another voice, seemingly detached from his own mind, whispered, _*"Another memory – use another memory! Don't loose hope!"*_

Swallowing, Harry cast about for another memory. It was hard to find a happy memory. All he could find easily seemed to be the worst ones. But then… Finally! It was Christmas. His first real Christmas as a whole family. The Weasleys had been there and so had Sirius. Fred and George were wreaking their usual havoc and Sirius had decorated the house, so that the grimy walls were covered with tinsel and mistletoe and Santa hats sat atop the stuffed elf heads. He smiled fondly. That was one of the best times he'd ever had.

Voice confident and strong, he once again spoke the incantation. "_Expecto Patronum_!" This time it worked.

Prongs, a silver marvel leaped out of his wand, paws blazing as he reared. He charged towards Malfoy, antlers lowered in a fierce attack. The dog gave one last threatening growl, but it seemed mainly for show. But just before it disappeared, it's gaze caught his. Harry shivered unconsciously and shifted his gaze back to Prongs who came trotting up to him, wearing what Harry could have sworn was one of immense pride. It's beautiful silver antlers gave him a gentle nudge towards the Entrance Hall and then, it, too, vanished.

Harry stood there for a long time, staring into the blackness. Although the presence of his real patronus had alleviated some of his fears, he could not repress a shudder as his thought back to his perverted Patronus. What had happened? He had used a happy memory and he had said the right words. So, _what_. _Had_. _Happened_?

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

Love,

Hannanora-Potter

~x~x~x~


	11. In Which Many Resolutions Are Made

**Title:** Time is a Healer

**Summary:** Harry, Ron and Hermione are suddenly and inexplicably thrown into the Marauders' sixth year at Hogwarts. Delighted with this chance to meet his parents and reunite with the recently deceased Sirius, Harry soon starts to cut his ties for the future, leaving Ron and Hermione seriously worried. And what's the monster that's starting to stalk Harry?

**Timeline and Spoilers:** Books 1 through 5, at the beginning of Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts (very beginning)

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and any related characters and setting are all the property of J.K. Rowling and not me. The extract is taken from OotP.

**Extra:** -'_blah_' = thoughts

- I did have a different ending to this chapter but my sister said it was too random and stupid – how nice of her! But I thought it as too funny to get rid of completely, so I popped it in as a one shot called, "The Day the Rules Changed". It's an alternative prank, but I put it in a new context – no time traveling teenagers here, just good old fashioned Marauding fun, with a bit of Lily chucked in! I would love it if you could read it and leave a review. Thank you!

_**Chapter 11 – In Which Many Resolutions Are Made:**_

Hermione couldn't stop the tears flowing down her cheeks. To know that you were doomed to death – that you couldn't help it... it was horrible.

"Please don't cry, Hermione," said James, looking awkward as he shifted on his feet. "It's ok – well, it's not really, but I'm coping. Besides, Harry needs me. I... I only want to help, seeing as how I'm obviously very bad at it in the future."

Hermione started. '_Was that a joke?'_ she thought incredulously. She wiped away the tears that were blurring her vision and found James entirely serious. What was she supposed to say? If he stayed then she would have to tell him more about the future – mainly that Sirius dies, too. But if she didn't... Harry was just getting worse and worse. Maybe James really could help him get over it.

Hermione looked James in the eye. His usually lively brown eyes were dull and full of pain and anguish. Despite the colour, they were in fact, very similar to Harry's eyes when ever he thought of Sirius. Hermione shivered and gave her head a numb nod.

James smiled at her in relief, although the smile was quickly crushed. He sat down at one of the tables. "So, what do you want me to do?"

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

The next morning was a much awaited Saturday, many students in Gryffindor Tower using the free time to get an extra hour in bed. Rain lashed the windows and the strong wind that had been present at last night's Quidditch practice had not vanished. All in all, it looked like a gale was blowing up and even the ones that woke early shivered and pulled their coverings over their heads, trying to bloke out the shriek of the wind as it rattled the windows.

Not so for two 6th year Gryffindors, however, who were currently sneaking through the freezing corridors under an invisibility cloak, making their way to the Slytherin common room. Even a first year would have been able to tell you who it was – Potter and Black. But which Potter was a more fitting question – one they all would have got wrong.

Harry stuck out his hand to freeze Sirius as Mrs Timmy wandered past them. The fluffy white cat had apparently just been for a bath and reeked of flowers and perfume. Harry was trying with all his might not to launch into hysterical laughter. The cat just did not suit Filch. Harry had seen him and he was the most dirty, disgusting man ever – so have a white, fluffy, perfumed Persian was just wrong. For some reason, Harry pictured Filch having a mangy tabby with peculiar amber eyes.

'_What am I _on _about?'_ Harry asked himself in shock, suddenly. '_That was Mrs Norris I just described! I _know_ he has a cat like that in the future! What is wrong with me?'_ But his pondering was cut short as Sirius dragged him onwards, round a corner and then...voila – the Slytherin common room!

Sirius had been ecstatic when he had found out that James was not the only one to own an invisibility cloak – "All the more for pranking, eh, Prongs?" – and had immediately let him in on their plan. At first they had all been planning on going to spy on the Slytherins' reactions but when James wouldn't get up this morning and it turned out that he had been working in the library all night, Sirius and Harry had decided to go together.

"How long do you think it will take them to get up?" whispered Harry, eyeing the stone wall that guarded the common room.

"Oh, ages!" dismissed Sirius, waving a hand. "Lazy buggers the lot of them – no one will be up for at least two hours."

"Well, then, why are we here?" asked Harry, only slightly annoyed. He couldn't stay mad at his Godfather longer than a second.

Even though it was still dark and Harry couldn't see the Sirius face under the cloak, Harry just knew he was grinning wickedly. "Well, I thought a little...redecorating?"

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

"NOOOOOOO!"

The horrified scream made Harry and Sirius jump before grinning in satisfaction. Apparently one of the Slytherins had just discovered their newly styled wardrobes – along with their newly styled robes.

"That was Snape," hissed Sirius, restraining himself from doing a little victory dance on the spot. He loved playing pranks – especially on that slimy git! "I'd recognise his voice anywhere – as treacherous and greasy as his hair!"

Harry burst into laughter besides him before hurriedly trying to stifle it. Sirius grinned. '_Hey, this Harry isn't so bad,' _he thought to himself, listening as the rest of Slytherin house – awakened by Snape's yell – discovered the changes in their living quarters, too. _ 'Well what am I expecting?' _Sirius added, eagerly monitoring the stair wells. _ 'He _is_ James' son. Speaking of whom...' _his good humour vanished. What was up with James – he was becoming so boring! He'd helped with the prank last night, but even Sirius had noticed that his heart wasn't in it. He just seemed to have, well...gone off him. Sirius felt a little affronted by James cool behaviour towards him and decided that, in retaliation he would get a new best friend. Originally he had decided on Harry because he was James' son – and that just added insult to injury as far as he was concerned – but now he was discovering that Harry was an extremely likeable person in his own right.

"Holy Merlin!" choked Harry, clutching Sirius' arm as he fought back even more giggles. Sirius looked up and gave a huge bark of laughter that was instantly smothered by one of Harry's hands.

Luckily for the both of them, Snape – newly dressed in glowing pink – was too caught up in his own worries to notice a bodiless scream of laughter. His face was twisted into a sneer of pure horror and hatred, eyes seeing nothing as they were delved deep into his own thoughts. Of course, whilst James and Sirius hated Slytherins in general, they hated Snape in particular, so that morning Sirius and Harry – whom, Sirius had also been delighted to discover, held an even bigger surge of hatred towards Snape than all of the Marauders put together – had gone to extra special lengths to humiliate him. Whilst he was in the standard pink robes issued to everyone in Slytherin, his hair had been magically died a baby blue with streaks of shocking purple. The hair had been twisted into greasy little curls which only accented the purpley-pink blusher that was smeared across his cheeks (Sirius' idea) and his eyes – which were also a bright pink (again, Sirius idea). But the best bits were yet to come.

"BLACK!" roared Snape, seemingly to thin air. Sirius jumped, then smirked as a dark haired 6th year came running down the girl's stairwell. Her robes were still black – not even him, James and Harry had managed to disable the jinx that prevented males entering the girls dormitory – so he and Sirius had set up a little booby-trap just by the stairwell.

Sirius grinned. How fitting that his bitch of a cousin be the first to test the system.

"What do you want, Severus?" snapped Bellatrix, lidded eyes narrowed in a snarl. "We were trying to sleep and..." She stopped as she finally took note of Snape's appearance. Sirius was surprised it had taken her so long. A pink glowing house mate would certainly have caught his attention. Her eyes widened as she let out a sound that faintly resembled nails on a blackboard and made both him and Harry cringe. It took Sirius some while to realise that she was laughing.

"I wasn't yelling at you, Black – and shut up!" sneered Snape, and for the first time in his life looking both uncomfortable and embarrassed. It made Sirius stop and think – could this mean that Snape really was a human, after all? He always seemed so cold and aloof when they meet and duelled that it didn't seem possible for him to have feelings other than hatred and scorn. Sirius pondered this new thought for a few seconds. '_What am I thinking? Of course he doesn't!'_ And he settled down to watch the fun.

"I was talking about your infernal cousin and that arrogant bastard he has for a friend," Snape was saying, and Sirius felt a surge of anger for this description of his friend. But he let it pass – not an easy thing when you had a temper like his, but Snape was going to get his comeuppance.

"You know," commented Bellatrix coolly, though her eyes glittered in cool amusement, "pink really doesn't suit you, Severus and – what?" she asked, irritably, as his eyes widened and he began to snigger.

For at that very moment, a soft pink flush was spreading across Bellatrix's robes. It had started at the bottom, but was rapidly rising upwards. '_Like it's been dipped in the dye and the fabric's just soaking it up,' _thought Sirius. He gave a little sigh of admiration –_ 'oh, the cleverness of me!'_

At that moment Bellatrix looked down and saw with a shriek that her robes were now also the same bright pink of Snape's, but this one had little purple lions running down the sleeves – purple _Gryffindor_ Lions. She gave a horrified shriek – that didn't sound too different from her laugh – and made to run back up into the dormitory. Sirius and Harry held their breaths...

_WHAM!_

Bellatrix ran into an invisible wall and was thrown backwards across the common room, tripping over a green couch as she went. She sat up a few seconds later, slightly dazed, her black hair a little mussed up. She glared at Snape who was laughing his head off, the laughter echoing off the walls coolly and harshly.

By this time some more of the Slytherin girls, as well as some of the boys, had come down from the dormitories, wanting to know what all the laughter was about. The girls had immediately started laughing at the boys and Bellatrix, but not soon after, the tables had turned and they found themselves running for the dormitory. But when they were thrown across the room too, making the boys laugh even more. After about 10 minutes or so of this, all of Slytherin House were sitting in the common room, all murderously muttering comments like "Kill...Potter and Black", "Bloody Gryffindors" and "But I don't _like_ pink!"

Harry and Sirius had decided they had had enough – besides, it was nearly breakfast and they were hungry, plus Harry had to take his potion. The Slytherin's had to come to the Great Hall for food sometime, and then phase two would be set into motion. The edged towards the exit, repressing fresh giggles as they passed wave upon wave of pink Slytherins. Luckily for them, the exit was set aside from the common-room, so no-one noticed the wall mysteriously slide open and then slide shut again.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

Much to everyone's complete confusion, not one of the Slytherins had turned up to breakfast that morning. Rumours started flying around that Professor Grollingsworth and even Professor Dumbledore himself had tried to get in, but apparently the password had changed – though how, none of them knew. Groll, it seemed, had wanted Dumbledore to bust in there, but the Headmaster had said "no" – apparently, outside the Slytherin Common Room was a big pink sign, clearly stating '_Shut for Redecorating_'.

Of course, everyone immediately thought of a prank and their thoughts immediately jumped to James and Black – the infamous Marauders. Most were planning on asking them a few questions, getting a few clues – but to everyone's shock, James Potter and Sirius Black was not sitting next to each other. They had sat together since the very first day of school and seemed inseparable – barring when one of them was in the Hospital Wing, usually for Quidditch – but that morning they didn't even eat at the same time. When people first saw Sirius Black they could have been fooled into thinking that he was eating with James Potter – but it was Harry Potter, the weird transfer kid that looked so like James. And James? James was sitting with the other two transfer students – Hermione Granger and Ron Wesley – and he did not look like James at all. He was very dull, tired and depressed. A lot of people did a lot of double takes when walking past him – the most comic was when a Second Year Hufflepuff walked by and managed to trip over a bench and land in a big bowl of porridge. But James hadn't even smiled.

Hence, at the end of breakfast, the mysterious disappearance of the Slytherins wasn't all the school was talking about.

In the Gryffindor Common Room, Remus Lupin was, on first appearances, reading "_Magical Creatures and Defences Against Them_". But if you had watched him closely, you would have noticed that he had, in fact, not turned a page for the last hour.

Remus was currently on page 175, '_The Patronus and it's uses_' but Remus could not tell you what it said. Although technically his eyes had been scanning the page ever since breakfast, he had not actually spared enough concentration to actually _read_ it. No, his attention was on far more important things:

Seating arrangements.

It was such a little thing, but it really bothered Remus. You tell someone Sirius Black and the first word that springs into their mind is James or Potter. It was impossible not to. They just went together. Like Light and Dark – well, maybe not like that, but in the same way that if you thought of Light you automatically thought of Dark as well. Sirius went with James and James went with Sirius. That's just how it was.

So why was James suddenly being replaced by Harry?

Currently Sirius and Harry were sitting in the big sofa's by the window – the Marauder's territory – joking and sniggering about goodness knew what. James was nowhere in sight.

James had been worrying Remus for quite some time. He couldn't remember how far back it had been when he had first noticed, but it definitely had something to do with the Time Travellers. He seemed more depressed, his eyes didn't sparkle mischievously like they used to whenever Sirius mentioned a prank. Instead, there was a look of pained agony and fresh determination etched into his face. Sirius mayn't have noticed it, but Remus had. And what had James said? _"No – I've, er, I've gone off Evans, Padfoot." _That made Remus mind up – something was definitely up. It was just not possible for James not to ardently love Lily Evans, just as it was impossible for Sirius to think before doing some rash decision. As impossible as it was for Sirius and James not to be friends.

At that moment, James walked in the portrait hole, followed by Ron and Hermione, the other two time travellers. Remus watched them closely. Al three looked exhausted, large bags under their eyes as they shot a worried glance over at Sirius and Harry, who were obviously planning something. Sirius hadn't even looked up when James had arrived. Remus frowned. A week ago, Sirius would have jumped up and pounced on James. Or if he didn't, James would have hit him round the head for not noticing him. But today, James just threw Sirius a pained glance before moving over to a more discreet corner of the Common Room.

Remus sighed, glancing between the two groups. It looked like he was going to have to sort this one out all by himself. '_Oh what fun'._

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

James, Hermione and Ron entered the Gryffindor Common Room to be greeted with the sight of Harry and Sirius deeply engrossed in what was obviously an amusing rendition of some various story. He didn't even look up as they entered – and neither did Sirius. Ron exchanged a fearful glance with Hermione as they made their way over to a secluded table in the far corner.

"It's going to be hard, Hermione," whispered Ron, as they stared over to where both Harry and Sirius were laughing happily at some joke or other. Ron's eyebrows drew closer together as he frowned. His brown eyes were a little sad. "Harry's not been this happy for a long time."

"What?" asked James, surprised. "How long has he been depressed?"

Hermione looked at him and sighed. She was trying hard not to reveal too much about the future to James, but it was hard if he really was going to help them. "A lot of bad things happen to him in our time," she explained, thinking of all that Harry had been through, these last two years especially. "It's been hard on him – well, lots of people, actually – but him most of all."

"I still don't understand why he'd want to stay in the past for ever?" said James, staring at his son. "I mean, what about his family?"

Hermione stiffened at this remark. She knew that James knew that he died, but she didn't want to tell him about Lily, the betrayal of Peter or Sirius' imprisonment and death. She changed the subject instead. "Why don't we try and get him to come with us to the library," she suggested, making to rise.

"He won't come, Hermione," said Ron, although he, too, stood up. He frowned across at his best friend. "He's too, well...I mean, he's never been a lover of the library anyway," he finished lamely.

Hermione glared at him, although it was half hearted. "Well, there's no harm in trying, is there?" she said bossily and strode across the common room, leaving him and James to follow in her stead. But Ron could see the same knowledge in her eyes. It was going to take more than a visit to the library to get Harry alright again.

Harry and Sirius had just burst into loud laughs as they walked up to the duo. Hermione waited for the laughter to subside, forcing a smile on her face, but Ron could see the angry tick in her eyes – Hermione did not like being ignored.

When it appeared that neither Sirius or Harry was going to say anything, she said, "Morning Harry, Sirius." Her tone was a little frostier than usual, but neither Godfather nor Godson seemed to notice as they grinned cheekily at Hermione.

"Oh, hello, Hermione my beautiful flower-of-the-morning!" drawled Sirius, making his best puppy-dog face at her. Ron felt a surge of anger at this, but forced it down. Besides, Hermione was red enough for the both of them.

Hermione was indeed blushing furiously, still unsure of how to deal with unwanted attentions from Sirius. In the end she settled on ignoring it and resettled the warm smile on her face. "Harry," she said, voice a little strained, "we need you to come and help us in the library."

Ron frowned at Hermione. That was not what they had agreed on. They had talked it over last night and had decided a gentle request would be better. Hermione appeared to have forgotten in her slightly flustered state. Unfortunately, if Harry was ordered to go to the library, he was likely to refuse – as he was doing now.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Why, Mione?" he drawled, leaning back on the sofa and raising an eyebrow at her.

Sirius hit him on the arm. "Don't call her, Mione!" he snapped indignantly. Hermione, who had been opening her mouth to tell Harry exactly that stared at Sirius in surprise – he couldn't be being useful, could he?

No.

"Her name is so beyootifull," Sirius continued, turning dreamy black-brown eyes on Hermione, "I don't want to miss any of it out!"

If Ron had not been nearly as indignant as Sirius had a moment before, he probably would have thought the whole situation very funny. Hermione looked so furious yet so completely embarrassed that it was a totally new experience for Ron. Again, she decided to ignore Sirius.

"What do you mean, _why_, Harry?" asked Hermione, exasperated. "You know why!"

Harry stared at her in confusion before comprehension suddenly dawned. His eyes went very wide before he adopted a scornful expression. "The library – come on, Hermione!" he said, absently rubbing his left hand. "Just because you love the place, doesn't mean you have to make _me_ live in it, too. Besides," and his face broke into an evil grin, "me 'n' Sirius still have some work to do."

Hermione's face broke into a full fledged frown at this and she started one of her infamous raves. "Has this anything to do with the disappearance of the Slytherins?" she snapped, drawing herself up as she took a deep breath. "Because if it is, I should tell you – "

"Don't you worry your pretty head over all that, my dear!" exclaimed Sirius, Jumping to his feet and pulling Hermione towards him in a gentle headlock as he stroked her smooth locks. "Don't worry yourself, my precious darling, about – "

"HEY!" yelled Ron, pulling Hermione roughly out of Sirius' grip. Hermione seemed to be in a state of shock, unable to speak. Ron was very sure that no one had ever treated her like that before. Ron himself was too busy glaring at Sirius to feel embarrassed that he had a protective arm around Hermione's shoulders. Sirius looked a little shocked, too, before that turned into a dark glare that made Ron shiver involuntarily.

Harry laughed.

For some reason that seemed to calm Sirius down, who also laughed heartily, though it looked like an effort. Ron felt another surge of seething anger. How dare Harry laugh at them? They were his best friends? Or where they? It felt awfully like Ron and Hermione were being replaced and Ron didn't like it one bit.

"Please, Harry."

Ron jumped. He had almost forgotten that James was there with them. His silent plea made Harry and Sirius look round at him. Sirius' face immediately slumped back into a sulky glare, but Harry hesitated. For a few seconds, doubt, guilt and even age-long pain flitted across his face. Then it settled into one of determination, although his eyes still looked pained. "No thanks, James." Harry stole a doubtful at Sirius before tentatively asking, "Would you like to stay with us?"

Sirius looked at James hopefully. Ron looked, too. James was looking longingly at his son and friend, eyes still filled with the immense pain that had engulfed them last night. He blinked once, then shook his head sadly. "Sorry, but I can't."

Sirius' glared at him. "Fine," he growled, eyes smouldering in silent rage. "Go away then." He was in such a state that he forgot to say goodbye to Hermione – which was good because she was still slightly in shock – and Ron would have punched him in the face if he had.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

Remus watched, horribly confused as a subdued James, seething Ron and shocked Hermione tramped out of the common room. His gaze flicking back to Sirius and Harry, he saw Sirius swallow his anger and resuming his conversation with Harry. Harry looked a little guilty at first, but soon the pair were roaring with laughter again, the past event seemingly forgotten.

Apparently, he hadn't been the only one watching.

"Um, Remus?"

A soft female voice interrupted his reverie and he turned to peer straight into the emerald of Lily Evans. _Worried_ emerald eyes. She looked very pale and was chewing her lip uncertainly. Her red hair was falling around her face in a way that was very becoming usually, but was only making her look more pallid at the moment. Her eyes glanced uncertainly at the chair next to him, which was covered with various books. "Can I sit there?"

"Oh...yeah, sure!" said Remus, surprised, reaching and grabbing most of the books off the table and ramming them into the bag by his feet. "Sorry about the mess," he apologised as she trod in a half full inkbottle. Normally she would have just smashed it or twisted her ankle, but this one had been magically enlarged by either Sirus or James a few days ago and he hadn't found either the counter jinx or a new one, so Lily ended up with one white shoe and one navy blue foot. He screwed up his eyes and prepared himself for the outburst.

But none came.

Tentatively, Remus opened an eye to find Lily still staring at him, pale and nervous. Remus doubted that she had even noticed the ink bottle, which made him a little concerned. Was no one behaving like their usual selves around her? Next thing, Groll would be giving out chocolate frogs in their next potions lesson.

"Can I help you?" he asked, cautiously. Lily didn't speak to him too much. Of course they had to speak together sometimes because they were the Gryffindor Sixth Year prefects, but Lily disapproved of his lack of control over his friends. Or maybe the fact that he didn't even bother to try to control them.

Lily seemed to be having a hard time starting. She kept glancing nervously around her as if checking for eavesdroppers. She fiddled with her hair, cleared her throat several times and had already drunk her way through two glasses of conjured water before Remus growled in frustration, "For Merlin's Sake, Lily!" he snapped. "Just spit it out!"

She jumped slightly and her cheeks flushed angrily. But all she did was give a short hiss of "Alright, alright!" This made Remus even more worried about Lily – a week ago she would have yelled at him for an entire five minutes.

"It's..." she began, hesitating. Her eyes flickered around once more, but no one was even watching them. She drew a deep breath. "It's about James."

"James?" yelped Remus, incredulously, forgetting to lower his voice. Several people looked up from surrounding tables.

Lily hissed angrily at Remus. "Keep your voice down, Remus!" she snapped, leaning in closer as she flared a brilliant red. It struck Remus that this was the first time he ever recalled Lily calling James by his first name. He had always been Potter to her and she Evans to him.

"What about James?" asked Remus, voice barely above a whisper.

"Well...I'm worried about him," replied Lily, fidgeting nervously, now such a bright red that her face was starting to glow slightly. She was clearly embarrassed out of her mind – and with good reason, too, as Remus was staring at her, mouth gaping open. Then he forced it shut with a snap as Lily began to look even more uncomfortable.

"Why?" choked out Remus, before he relapsed into a whorl of confused thoughts.

"Because he...well, he isn't being James, that's why," said Lily, shifting in her seat and looking at Remus with slightly watery green eyes. "He isn't hitting on me, he's not cursing anyone, he's not friends with Black and he seems so depressed." She broke off and stared at the portrait, where James had just exited. "I like the old James," she said, turning her gaze back on Remus. "I want to help him, Remus." The emerald eyes stared unnervingly at him.

'_Well, I must say that this is an interesting turn of events,'_ thought Remus, before nodding and leaning in closer to listen to Lily some more.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

"It still doesn't make any sense, Hermione!" snapped Ron, running large pale hands through ruffled red hair that was already mussed up. He had spent altogether too many hours in here arguing over the same point. The dusty, fusty smell of the ancient tomes was making his head swim and there was no air in the library. "If the key to getting back to our time is to get over Si – I mean, _the_ death, then why haven't you and I returned already? And it doesn't explain why someone would do that – what about that corridor, the wizard, the statue and 'Malfoy'?"

After two or three hours of this, Hermione was a little short tempered and frustrated as well. "Well, Dumbledore said…" she began hotly, but was cut off by James.

"Will both of you just shut up!" he yelled, jumping to his feet. Ron and Hermione stopped in mid-flow, staring at James. Throughout the whole of the argument, he had been more or less silent. But apparently he could take no more. "You're both right in a way – Hermione's theory has something to do with it but it doesn't explain everything. And please, will you stop saying '_the_ death'! Just say Sirius' death, for Merlin's sake!"

Hermione and Ron stared at him, horrified. "How did you find out about Sirius' death?" Hermione whispered finally.

James stared at her in confusion. "I told you I knew," he said shortly, not sure if they were trying to be funny or not.

"No you didn't," she protested, brown eyes huge as she stared up at him. "You said you knew about…well, _your_ death, but you didn't say anything about knowing about Sirius' death."

"Wait a second – _I_ die?" asked James, ice suddenly freezing his heart. They had thought he knew he died? Everything around him seemed to stop suddenly. The sunlight filtering through the grimy window was no longer warm – it was cold, yet the brightness was suddenly so bright it was searing his eyes. The air in the library was no longer close – it was suffocating and vacant, all at once. All the sound seemed to stop as he dimly registered Ron and Hermione's distraught faces as they realised what they had said. And, like an echo far away, he heard his own words to them; "_And I also know that he needs help getting over…Well, help getting over my… his… _The_ death._"

The world began to swim before him, but, strangely enough, he didn't black out. He just stood there, in a daze, not noting when Hermione reached out and tentatively touched his arm. She spoke, though it was though a great distance was between them and he couldn't quite connect the sounds with words. "Oh, James, I'm so sorry," she said, the light tones coming through thick and heavy to his ear. "We…. well, I – oh, how can I have been so stupid!"

She seemed ready to burst into tears, but then Madam Pince, attracted earlier by James yells, had found her way through the labyrinth that was the library to turn them out. "Never… in all my life!" she cried, looking shocked and hurt, but her expression turned when she saw James standing there. "Why am I not surprised!" she snapped, glaring at the afore mentioned boy, but James was taking no notice of her. He was distracted by the roaring still going on in his ears and the icy fist that was clenching his heart. And squeezing.

This apparent lack of attention only made Madam Pince angrier. "That's it, Mr Potter!" she shrieked finally. "Too many years I've had to put up with you yelling and disrupting my peaceful library – I'm banning you for life!"

Some distant part of James' brain connected with this sentence and he gave a small gurgle of slightly hysterical laughter. "What life, Madam Pince? What life?" and he broke off into more hysterical laughter.

Ron and Hermione were looking slightly alarmed and moved forward, but Madam Pince glared at them, too. "You think it's funny, Mr Potter?" she snapped, eyes glinting madly – it seemed James and the Marauders had always been a particular thorn in her side. "Well, I'm also banning your friends here – and your little gang, too!" She beamed triumphantly at them, before shrieking, "Get out! Get out!"

Terrified, Ron and Hermione grabbed James and pelted out of the library, as Madam Pince chased them, waving a huge book at them. As they ducked out the door, the book came sailing past them and struck the wall, loose pages scattering everywhere.

"And stay out!" yelled Madam Pince, slamming the library door vindictively.

For a few moments, all three just stood there, shaking. But whilst Ron and Hermione were shaking with shock, James was shaking with suppressed hysterical laughter. Hermione looked at him anxiously, but Ron was looking at her in apprehension.

"What?" she snapped, suddenly noticing his glance.

Ron blushed but replied nevertheless, "I was wondering if you were ok." When Hermione's glare only got worse, he hurried on, "About being banned from the library, I mean."

Hermione gave a derisive snort, though her expression looked pained. "Is that all you can think about, Ron?" she asked angrily, but it was half hearted. "I'm more worried about James, but…"

Her voice trailed off as she looked at the tattered book. "But…" and she gave a huge sob, "how will we ever get home if - if we can't r-r-research it in the library?" And she began to cry.

Ron shifted uncomfortably on his feet. He wasn't really too sure what to say or do. He ended up just standing there, looking and feeling like an idiot. '_I bet Sirius would know what to do,_' he thought, bitterly and that thought gave him the little boost he needed. He strode forward and put an arm around Hermione's shaking shoulders. "Come on, Hermione," he said, a little uneasily. "It will be alright." Hermione only sobbed louder and buried her face into his shoulder. Shocked and definitely very red, Ron just stood there, awkwardly patting Hermione's shoulder every now and then. James had stopped laughing by now and looked close to tears himself.

Finally, just Ron was beginning to get over his embarrassment and enjoy the arrangement very much, Hermione pulled out of his embrace and gave a loud sniff. She shook her hair, wiped her eyes and became, once again, the Hermione he knew. "Like it or not," she said, all business like again, though she did flash Ron a brief smile of gratitude, "Madam Pince has left us a leaving present."

"Come again?" asked Ron, perplexed.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "The book, Ron," she said, jerking her head towards where it lay, battered and lonely on the floor. "I think she took it off our table and I haven't had a chance to read it, yet. You never know."

Ron was impressed. "You're stealing a book from the library?" he whistled, grinning at her.

He expected a glare and sharp words but Hermione actually grinned at him. "Well, if she _will_ chuck me - _me_ - out of the library… Gather up all the loose pages you can find."

Amazed and greatly cheered, Ron set about grabbing as many loose pages as he could find and shoved them in his pockets. Hermione kept giving him pointed glares about this treatment of a book, but he took no notice. James was still standing, looking for all the while that he had been petrified. When all the pages had been found – Ron thanking Merlin that Madam Pince had chucked them out of one of the lesser used entrances as otherwise he would have been given some very strange looks – Ron turned back to Hermione, who was tentatively approaching James.

"Come on, James," she said, hesitating slightly when he took no notice of her. "We'll find somewhere and talk about it – ok?"

James made no reply and continued staring, unblinking, at the wall. Hermione bit her lip, at a complete loss as to what to do. She turned to Ron despairingly and at that moment, James spoke.

"So, I'm dead, then," James spoke, in a scarily emotionless voice. He gave a small chuckle that didn't communicate any amusement whatsoever. On the contrary, the harsh, cold laugh made Ron and Hermione shiver involuntarily. "No wonder Harry was a little shocked to see me."

Ron and Hermione didn't know what to say to this. They just stared on at a complete loss as to what to say. James turned to them. "So, come on, tell me," he said, glaring at them, as though it was their fault. "Tell me how I die."

As Ron opened his mouth to reply, Hermione stepped on his foot and shook her head slightly. "Why, James?" she asked, watching him warily.

James gave her an incredulous look (as did Ron) and gave another one of those eerie emotionless laughs. "What do you mean _why_, Hermione," he asked, a little bit angrily. "Doesn't a fellow have a right to know when and how he dies?"

"That depends on what you're going to do with the news," Hermione retorted, but with a much softer tone than usual.

Another one of James' laughs. "Why, I'm gonna make sure it doesn't happen!" he said, grinning all over his face. Ron shivered and took an involuntary step backwards. James was acting a little bit mad. Hermione didn't even blink.

"You can't James," she whispered softly. "It would create a paradox and could rip the Universe – "

"I DON'T _CARE_!" bellowed James suddenly. Gone was the happy grin. Instead, James face was white and pinched, whilst his cheeks flushed an angry red. "IT'S NOT _FAIR_! WHY DON'T I HAVE THE RIGHT TO LIVE? EVERYONE ELSE DOES!"

"Stop being so selfish, James!" snapped Hermione, also loosing her cool. Her voice was getting louder and louder.

James laughed hysterically. "HOW AM _I_ BEING SELFISH, HERMIONE?" he asked, fists clenched as he glared angrily at her. "ALL I WANT IS A CHANCE AT LIFE – SCREW THE REST OF THE UNIVERSE! I NEED A CHANCE TO LIVE AS WELL!"

"You want to know how you die?" asked Hermione angrily. "Fine. You die saving Lily and Harry from Voldermort! Because of you, Harry is alive and because Harry is alive, hundreds – maybe even thousands more – lives have been saved!" James was looking a little dumbstruck, mouth open and working noiselessly. "If you don't die, at the very best Voldermort would have killed thousands more people – at worse, the WHOLE, BLOODY UNIVERSE COULD BE DESTROYED AND NO ONE WOULD BE ALIVE! I'M SORRY YOU HAVE TO DIE, JAMES, BUT YOUR LIFE IS NOT WORTH THOUSANDS – EVEN BILLIONS!"

Hermione stopped suddenly, breathing deeply and looking ashamed of herself. Ron stared at her in shock as did James. She swallowed nervously, tears at once flooding to her eyes. "Look, I'm sorry, James," she said, voice soft and upset. "But this is the way it has to be. You said you want to help Harry? Well, the only way you can help Harry is to not think about the future – just be there for him. Please."

James gave a stiff little nod. Hermione sighed in relief, although she was still more tense than usual. "Come on, James, let's go."

And they walked off in silence, neither one knowing any words that could possibly comfort the other.

And, hidden in a dark corner, a single page lay unnoticed in the dust.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

Harry could hardly keep still at dinner time. He almost burst out laughing just thinking about the upcoming prank but then Sirius would think less of him. Instead, he tried to concentrate on more mundane things as he ate his mashed potato and kept an expectant eye on the door.

He had been concentrating very hard all day to avoid the subject of his patronus last night. But, like it or not, it kept coming up. He shivered. That thing that had come out of his wand shouldn't have happened. He had used a happy memory, so what he should have got was a patronus – not that dark perversion that tried to suck all of his happy thoughts out of his head. The anti-patronus that had made him sink into his grief and replayed Sirius' demise over and over again. It just shouldn't have happened.

Harry looked back on the memories he had used. Both were equally happy – in fact, the first memory he had used, of the prank from the night before – was the happier one for Harry. Even now, he couldn't help a smile spreading across his face at the look on Hermione's face. But, that had produced the anti-patronus, not the gleaming white stag the lesser memory had given. He couldn't think of any real difference between the two. Both were happy, both centred on Sirius…. In fact, the only difference was that the first one was in the past and the second one was in the future. But that didn't make any difference… did it?

Harry had debated telling Ron and Hermione this. Usually they would be the first ones he would turn to, but he felt strangely apart from them. Hermione would be fascinated and ask him a load of searching questions and undoubtedly set him even more research on the subject. Just what Harry did not want to do. '_Hermione just doesn't get it. I don't _want_ to go back. I'm happy here – I'm with the people I love and am free from the responsibilities the world has put on me. I don't _want_ to be killed, because who am I kidding! Voldermort would kill me, easy as anything! And I've done enough for this bloody world, anyway! I've almost died four or five times and what has the world done? Nothing – they made out I was mad and insane for a year! Well, I'm _through_ with being their bloody saviour. I didn't want the job in the first place and now I quit!'_

With fresh determination and seething anger boiling through his veins, Harry attacked his sausages, ignoring the little doubts niggling at his brain. He tried to tell himself that someone else would be able to kill Voldermort – Dumbledore would be able to, surely? But the doubt still remained and he hesitated in his resolve. '_What if really no one else can?' _he asked himself anxiously. '_Can I really do that – condemn the Weasleys, Professor Lupin, Dumbledore and the others to a life time of oppression and death under Voldermort. Can I really let Voldermort win?_'

Sirius nudged Harry in the side as a sudden shocked hush settled over the Great Hall. Harry looked over to the door (his gaze had wandered and was resting unknowingly on Remus) as the Slytherins shuffled in, trying to be inconspicuous. But it was very hard to be inconspicuous when every single one of them was still a vibrant glowing pink. There was a split second of silence, then…

"Holy _MERLIN_!"

The Hall erupted into hysterical laughter at the sight of the Slytherins. Even Professor Dumbledore and a few other teachers had smiles lingering on their faces. Professor McGonagall, however…

"POTTER! BLACK!" she screeched, jumping to her feet, face flushed and steely eyes glinting furiously. "50 POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR AND DETENTION!"

Sirius stood up and bowed, waving his arms elegantly. "Of course, my dearest Professor," he said elegantly. Harry stuffed his hand into his mouth to stop himself laughing. Steeling a glance down the table, Harry saw James who looked like the world was going to end. His eyes were directed at Professor McGonagall but they were unfocused and filled with a familiar pain. Harry immediately forgot his laughter. What was _with_ James, now-a-days? Was it something to do with him? When Harry had arrived he had been happy, carefree and always ready to laugh. But now… it seemed almost as though they had switched places and Harry felt slightly guilty for neglecting his father.

It wasn't that he didn't want to get to know James – he did, it's just that…well, Sirius' death was still more painful. He had had nightmares for ages, always reliving that dreadful moment when Sirius feel through that stupid black veil. He seemed to be filled with a constant pain that was Sirius' death. And now he had the chance to forget that pain, act as it had never happened. And, day by day, the pain would slowly go away when he realised that it was no longer necessary.

At least that was the plan.

At the moment, it seemed to be working backwards. The more Harry tried to forget the future, the more the pain seemed to hurt. But he was determined to beat it. He had a chance to get to really know Sirius now. Although it felt as though he had known him for ages, he had only actually known him for two years – two very short years – and Harry realised that he didn't really know much about his Godfather. But he was getting every chance of finding out.

James and Lily were a different problem. Harry had never known them. He held no memories of them being alive and had more or less gotten over their death. He still felt a slight pang whenever he saw all the happy parents at Platform 9 ¾, but it was dull and faded and he got used to it. But now he was back with them, it was becoming harder and harder for him to see them without feeling a deep longing within him to know them and stay with them. He had thought it would be easy, what with Sirius and James being best friends, but Sirius and James did not seem to be friends anymore. James was drifting further and further away into depression and Sirius was too angry to care. Again Harry felt guilty – a habit he could not cure himself of – and resolved to make James and Sirius friends again. And to get to know his parents a lot better than he did now.

Proud on having reached this decision, Harry settled back to watch the fun.

The Slytherins were absolutely starving. They were so hungry that they barely even glanced at the laughing spectators, let alone scowl at them. They had been sitting in their common room the whole day, not wanting to go out and be embarrassed. Presumably they thought the spells would wear off. Wrong!

So they had finally mustered the courage to go down to the Great Hall and were so famished that they did not pause to even wonder at the strange assortment of food on the Table as they quite literally stuffed their faces.

Sirius and Harry exchanged vindictive grins as the Slytherins helped themselves to Custard Creams, Toffees and any other variety of small sweets. It took a few seconds for all the various spells to activate, mingled together as they were. But work they did. And the Hall subsided into even more helpless laughter.

Courtesy of Fred and George, the Slytherin table now hosted a variety of animals with many various disfigurements – all still a glowing pink. Harry watched – with a certain amount of pleasure – Bellatrix Black turn into a pink canary with the hind legs of a pink and white spotted cow. Harry couldn't quite remember where the cow parts had come from – it was either the Milkin' Chocolates or the Moo Moo Munchies – but the seriously inflated head had definitely come from the Airhead Chews and the lolling four foot tongue brought up fond memories of Dudley from two years back.

All in all, it was a very varied affair, not two Slytherins having eaten the same combination of sweets. Harry saw one Slytherin (later realising that it was Barty Crouch Jr.) that had turned into a floating donkey with long fluffy ears and was braying loudly at the top of it's voice. Someone had even turned into a tree – Harry had no idea where on Earth _that_ had come from! Other people had large cherries for heads that were bouncing up and down, squishing cherry juice down their pink robes. Harry remembered them from the catalogue Fred and George had given him – Cherry Bombers. Someone was flashing ridiculous rainbow colours and another person was a little fluffy pink bunny rabbit who was running around in circles and squawking "I'm late! I'm late!" Now Harry _knew_ that Sirius and James had added a few enchantments of their own. Harry was pretty sure that – as ingenious as the Weasley twins were – they couldn't have come up with _that_ one! And the bizarre mix of spells was having some rather random effects – such as the Slytherin girl who was floating close to the ceiling and spitting cherries on everyone below. Harry found he was clutching his side, a stitch forming painfully. But he couldn't stop laughing.

But Snape definitely had – by pure coincidence – managed to pick out the best combination. His hair had grown till it was almost by his ankles (a Hairy Humbug) but it was still just as greasy as ever and the grease was dripping off the ends in sickening plops. He had grown blue spots all over his face, and, most astonishingly of all, he had grown a _chest_! That was definitely Sirius' work! Next to him, the criminal in question was shaking so hard with laughter, Harry was worried he'd shake himself to bits. Snape flung himself at a terrified Ravenclaw, calling, "O woe is me! Wilt thou save my poor soul from these horrendous fiends!"

Harry and Sirius were leaning on each other for support by now, even as the spells faded off. Snape's seemed to be staying a bit longer than usual and he was currently weeping into the poor third years lap, telling how he was a beautiful princess from a far off land – it was then that Harry noticed he had somehow acquired a tail.

There was a ferocious roar and several screams. A familiar wave of sadness and pain washed over Harry and without even turning around he could tell that it was 'Malfoy'. He could hear the patter of claws on stone and smell the stench of decay that seemed to accompany it.

'_Great,_' Harry thought, swallowing nervously and turning around slowly. '_How typical of 'Malfoy' to spoil what little fun I have!_'

The first thing Harry noticed was how much larger 'Malfoy' suddenly was. When it had attacked him in the hospital wing it was about the size of a large dog. Last night it had been about the size of a stag. Now it resembled a small elephant – if elephants ever could be small. The huge monster was growling, evil red eyes staring straight at him. They pierced his soul and, too late, Harry remembered what had happened the last time he looked into it's eyes. He began to drown in memories he would rather forget.

"_The second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest._

_The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock._

_Harry released Neville, though he was unaware of doing so. He was jumping down the steps again, pulling out his wand, as Dumbledore, too, turned towards the dais._

_It seemed to take Sirius an age to fall: his body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backwards through the ragged veil hanging from the arch._

_Harry saw the look of mingled fear and surprise on his god-father's wasted, once-handsome face as he fell through the ancient doorway and disappeared behind the veil, which fluttered for a moment as though in a high wind, then fell back in place._

_He heard Bellatrix Lestrange's triumphant scream, but knew it meant nothing – Sirius had only just fallen through the archway, he would reappear from the other side any second..._

_But Sirius did not reappear._

"_SIRIUS!" Harry yelled. "SIRIUS!"_

_He had reached the floor, his breath coming in searing gasps. Sirius must be behind the curtain, he, Harry , would pull him back out..._

_But as he reached the ground and sprinted towards the dais, Lupin grabbed Harry around the chest, holding him back._

"_There's nothing you can do, Harry – "_

"_Get him, save him, he's only just gone through!"_

" – _it's too late, Harry."_

_We can still reach him – " Harry struggled hard and viciously, but Lupin would not let go..._

"_There's nothing you can do, Harry... nothing... he's gone."_

"SIRIUS! SIRIUS!"

"He's alright, Harry! Calm down, your hand is bleeding!"

For a second, Harry thought that he was back in the future again and that Sirius really _was_ alright – he was alive and Harry could tell him how sorry he was and they would all be fine... but it was Lily's face that appeared over his own when he opened his eyes, not Dumbledore's or Hermione's. Lily's eyes, identical to his own – were filled with apprehension. She put forward a tentative question. "Are... are you alright?"

Was he alright? No! Of course not. But then, Sirius was alive now – and so were his parents. Why then would he not be ok? It was just memories of his past refusing to let matters lie. But he had to accept it, didn't he? Harry gave up. He gave a great sob and flung himself into his surprised mother's arms. She sat as though in shock for a few seconds, before putting her arms around Harry, comforting him. She didn't know why, but she felt strangely protective of him.

So the two sat there, in the midst of a panicking hall, comforting each other.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

The monster had it's hackles raised – if it had hackles and was glaring with the most evil eyes Peter had ever seen. Peter had been enjoying the joke as much as the next person – although a little hurt that James and Sirius hadn't asked for his help – when suddenly, that... that _thing_ had appeared. People had screamed and backed away, terrified, Peter among them. He had even seen Dumbledore – _Dumbledore_, for Merlin's sake! – at a complete loss. He had always thought of Dumbledore as a sort of super human, always knowing what's going on and always with a cool head. Well, he hadn't screamed and tried to stampede like the rest of them but as for knowing what was going on, Peter had one word that summed it up entirely. Clueless.

The monster was hideous, with bulging muscles squeezed in every possible location, resulting in the beast resembling nothing more than a mass of flesh. But this flesh was black with rippling pink and huge sharp claws protruding from what Peter assumed where it's feet. Saliva hung in thick, shiny ropes from yellowing fangs as the two red lights that were it's eyes fixated on Harry.

Peter didn't know why he didn't run. Peter would have. But then, as Peter thought about it, he figured out that maybe Harry thought that the thing would go for it if he moved. Smart move. Peter would most likely have transformed and run away to hide somewhere too small for the beast to find him. Of course he would have to face James' and Sirius' wrath for giving away their secret in front of the entire school, but at least he would be alive to receive it. But then, Harry was Prong's son and one of the things Peter admired most about James was his insurmountable Gryffindor courage.

Sirius was stood there, too, eyes widened in total shock as he stared unbelieving at the beast. He, too, made no move to run away, though Peter could tell that this was more a case of shock than of anything else. Wormtail's gaze flicked back to Harry, who was staring at the beast as much as it was staring at him. But Harry's eyes were slightly unfocused and it looked to Peter that he wasn't seeing much of anything at all.

Then he screamed.

It sounded like "Sirius! Sirius!" but Peter couldn't tell, because, at that precise second, the monster lunged. Mouth open, fangs exposed and claws extended, it leapt through the air with more grace than Peter had thought possible for a creature of it's size and bulky. It sliced through the air and – with hideous snarl – landed on top of Sirius, jaws snapping.

Peter let out a shriek of horror and he was not the only one. All over the Hall, people were yelling and screaming, even some of the teachers. Next to Sirius – still seemingly oblivious to his fate – Harry gave another shriek and fell backwards, hand bleeding furiously. And as soon as his head whacked into the cold stone floor, the monster disappeared.

Just pop and it was gone. Not even a pop! One second it was there and the next it wasn't. Peter stared at the space it had just occupied thinking. _Could_ any animals – monsters, he amended – disapparate like that? He knew that wizards made a sound when they apparate. It tended to scare the life out of him if he wasn't expecting it. But he didn't know about animals. He would have to ask Remus, James or Sirius in the mor – '_Holy, Merlin! Sirius!_'

And the strangest thing was, Sirius was lying on the floor, eyes open wide in shock, staring at the ceiling, not a scratch on him. By contrast, Harry was lying next to Padfoot, tossing and turning as though in a bad dream, hand still pooling blood all over the floor.

As Lily and Remus ran over to the two, Peter frowned. There was something funny about that kid and he was... well, he wasn't going to be able to figure it out himself. He just wasn't good at that sort of thing. '_I'm going to ask Remus about him. Tomorrow._'

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

Professor Dumbledore stood up, eyes flashing and full of worry. The Hall was still filled with occasional screams, loud sobs and horrified chatter and didn't notice straight away. After letting off a few fire crackers, he got everyone's attention and spoke, voice deadly serious.

"Students will sleep in here tonight," he instructed, waving his wand at the four house tables which disappeared with a pop, food still laden on them. Pupils hurriedly got off the benches before he did the same to them, still eyeing one another nervously. "Staff will search the corridors and check the common rooms to see if it is safe and I ask the Head boy and Girl and the Prefects to help us keep watch tonight. Thank you." He started to turn away before adding, suddenly, "Oh, yes and you'll be needing..." He waved his wand and several hundred black, squishy sleeping bags appeared. Turning to Professor McGonagall he asked, "And if you could take Mr Black and Harry Potter to the infirmary, Minerva, it would help me greatly."

James heard none of this. He was lost in his thoughts, remembering again and again the vision he had just seen. He had stood up when that thing had entered – which he assumed was 'Malfoy' as Hermione had given a low hiss – and automatically reached for his wand, but just as his fingers had clutched the block of wood...

He found himself lost inside a memory.

He assumed it was Harry's memory as he whipped his head around to watch Sirius fighting with Bellatrix Black – '_Lestrange_,' the memory corrected. There was definitely something wrong about the picture. Sirius, for one. He looked so wasted, so thin and haunted. His face was gaunt and emaciated, black eyes filled with a pain that was never quite gone, even as he taunted his cousin.

James watched as the beam of red light hit his best friend in the chest.

He felt a wave of pure horror, guilt and desperation that was not his. It was overwhelming and for a split second all James could focus on was the throbbing pain that was sounding at his ears, an urge to run and a feeling of desperate denial. Sirius could _not_ be dead – he was just on the other side of that strange fluttering veil. It took a while for James to realise these feelings were Harry's.

He felt his/Harry's feet pounding the floor as he charged forward and felt arms grab his/Harry's waist as a familiar voice spoke in his ear. _"There's nothing you can do, Harry – " _It was Lupin, sounding old an weary and full of pain, though it was well hidden.

James felt his mouth open in a protest and heard Harry's desperate reply _"Get him, save him, he's only just gone through!"_

" – _it's too late, Harry."_

"_We can still reach him – " Harry struggled hard and viciously, but Lupin would not let go..._

"_There's nothing you can do, Harry... nothing... he's gone."_

And with those few words, James found himself literally lost in a tidal wave of grief, anger, hatred and guilt. Lots of guilt. And even more denial. He shuddered as he remembered those few seconds worth of memory. The pain and emotions he had felt. He didn't know how Harry could bear them.

As he automatically reached forwards to grab a sleeping bag – past a still bewitched Snape who was clutching the arm of the poor Ravenclaw she/he had seemed to have grown attached to, wailing and sobbing about the awful monster she/he had seen – James reflected on what he could do. He could sink further into depression – seeing your friends' death but having to still see him every day completely oblivious of the not so nice future that awaited him was enough to depress anybody. '_But that guilt...'_

As he went over to a corner with Ron and Hermione – also looking shocked – James made a resolution. He had to help Harry, his future son. Knowing what utter agony he was going through, James would help anyone in that state, even Snape! Well, maybe not Snape – or Groll for that matter. And besides, maybe by helping Harry he could get over his own bout of depression. And if not... well, there'd be plenty of time to be depressed when Harry got back to the future.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ _

Love,

Hannanora-Potter

~x~x~x~


	12. In which there is a lot of talking

**Title:** Time is a Healer

**Summary:** Harry, Ron and Hermione are suddenly and inexplicably thrown into the Marauders' sixth year at Hogwarts. Delighted with this chance to meet his parents and reunite with the recently deceased Sirius, Harry soon starts to cut his ties for the future, leaving Ron and Hermione seriously worried. And what's the monster that's starting to stalk Harry?

**Timeline and Spoilers:** Books 1 through 5, at the beginning of Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts (very beginning)

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and any related characters and setting are all the property of J.K. Rowling and not me.

**Extra:** -'_blah_' = thoughts

_**Chapter 12: In Which There Is Rather A Lot of Talking**_

James, Ron and Hermione lay silently in their sleeping bags in a secluded corner of the Great Hall, all at a loss as to what to say. Hermione watched the faces of the two boys and a wave of nostalgia hit her. Halloween in third year. Only then it had been Harry with them, not James, and things had been much simpler. She shivered as she reflected over the tormented memory she had just experienced.

"How – how can he live with all those feelings?" asked James, suddenly, voice a little choked. His eyes were showing the now all too familiar pain. "How can anyone?"

Hermione sighed wearily. "He always has done, really," she admitted, although she, too, shared James' opinion. She knew if she carried half as much of the emotional strain that Harry was carrying she would have broken down long ago. The overwhelming guilt and sense of uselessness made her want to fling her arms around Harry and cry for hours on end. "Life's been hard on him, James. Harder than it's probably ever been on anyone else before."

James seemed to accept this, though it was not a very happy thing for any father to acknowledge. But it appeared that Harry was not the only thing on his mind. "I hadn't realised that he had seen Sirius die," he said softly, staring upwards at the ceiling. The soft glow of the night's stars were reflected in his sad brown orbs. "That's got to be traumatic enough for anyone."

Ron nodded, speaking almost to himself. "I hadn't really understood what had happened to Sirius," he confessed, picking at a loose thread in his sleeping bag. "By the time we'd come round we were in the Hospital Wing and Harry had already closed up like a clam. But now I have... I really wish I hadn't."

A lone tear trickled down Hermione's cheek. "And it was only a stunner," she whispered, seeing the jet of red light – red, not green – hit Sirius in the chest. "If only that damned archway hadn't been there. I knew there was something creepy about it!"

James suddenly looked up at them, sharply. "Wait a second, you two were there as well?" he asked, a spark of curiosity coming through the grief.

Hermione sighed again. She couldn't not tell James anything about the future anymore. He had to know, because if he didn't then he would jump to the wrong conclusions and probably end up changing it somehow. And she owed it to him. She had let it slip that he was dead and now he knew that he would never live to see his son beyond the age of 1½. She owed it to at least tell him a little bit about the son he would never know. And besides, they had managed to give away so much that what would it harm them to give a little more information?

"Harry had a vision of Voldermort torturing Sirius in the Department of Mysteries," she told him, keeping her voice low as a prefect walked past them nearby. Ron shot her a puzzled look as she continued the story, presumably as to why she was telling James anything when she was usually so adamant about preserving the time line. She ignored him. "Anyway, we tried to contact Sirius through the Floo Network, but Kreacher – "

"Kreacher!" exclaimed James, aghast. When the nearest Prefect looked over at them, he lowered his voice, still shocked. "Not that evil, dirty little house-elf from 12 Grimmauld Place?"

Hermione frowned at him. "He is not evil, James!" she snapped, feeling anger making her cheeks flush. "He's just been badly treated his whole life by people prejudiced against house elves and I think – "

"Shut up, 'Mione," said Ron, shortly. "He was evil and it has nothing to do with his being a house elf."

Hermione sighed, but more about the fact that he had called her 'Mione again. It looked like that nickname was going to stick. Bother. "Well, anyway," she continued, voice a little cooler than before, "Kreacher lied and told Harry that Sirius had gone out and then Harry got all panicky because it probably meant that Voldermort really did have Sirius in the Department of Mysteries and as the only teachers in school he could tell were either in hiding or hospitalised – "

"Whoa!" cried James, looking at her incredulously. "Why were they in hiding?"

Hermione rubbed her forehead wearily. In order for James to understand this there was a lot of background information that was extremely complicated. "Look, do you want to hear the story or not?" she snapped, annoyed and feeling a headache coming on. James was silent, so she took this as a cue to continue. "So he lead us – me, Ron, Ron's sister Ginny, Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood – on thestrals to the Department of Mysteries."

"You can see them?" James asked, amazed. Then he frowned. "Wait a minute, you flew all the way to London on them? From Scotland? And aren't they unlucky."

"Actually, the unlucky part is just a misconception," corrected Hermione, remembering what Hagrid had told them in class. "Because only people who have seen someone die can see them."

"You've seen someone die?" whispered James, looking horrified.

Ron shuddered. "No," he replied, sinking further down into his sleeping bag as if to ward off the memory. "Only Harry, Neville and Luna could. That was possibly the most terrifying thing I've ever done."

Hermione nodded in agreement. She wasn't too comfortable with flying on anything other than a broomstick in the first place, but flying on something you couldn't even see had been a complete nightmare.

James' eyes narrowed. "Who's Harry seen die?" he asked, sharply.

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances. "I... er, well, let's not get into that right now," said Hermione, hastily getting back to the story. "Anyway, it was a trap. The Death Eaters were waiting for us and we had a ferocious fight getting out. I got knocked out by these weird purple flames and Ron – " she broke off, looking towards her best friend.

Ron made a face. "Well, I got knocked on the head at some point and got a bit delirious and ended up being attacked by a brain."

James burst out laughing and even Hermione couldn't help a snigger. She knew it was wrong of her, but it sounded so funny! When James saw that Ron was being serious, however, he cut off the sound. "Sorry," he apologised, though his mouth still twitched, "But what do you mean by a brain?"

"Exactly what it sounds like," said Ron, sounding a bit grumpy. "There were a few swimming around in this tank and – like I said – I was a bit nuts by this point and summoned one to me." He held out his arms, pulling up the sleeves of his robes. Several pinky purple scars were wrapped around his arms. Hermione saw James wince even as she herself did so. They were not nice to look at. "It nearly strangled me and this is what it's tentacles left behind. Madam Pomfrey said that they will probably never go away completely."

"So, basically, we were unconscious by the time the Order arrived to help us fight off the Deatheaters," Hermione summed up, sitting up and hugging her knees towards her, trying to ward off the shivers that were rippling down her spine, although she knew that they had nothing to do with the cold. "We woke up in the hospital wing here not long after."

James said nothing, his eyes unfocused. His face was scrunched up in a frown as he clearly absorbed the information. Ron and Hermione didn't dare move – showing some tact she didn't know he possessed on Ron's part. After what seemed like an age but was in reality only two or three minutes, James looked back up on them. "You said that Voldermort sent Harry a vision about Sirius," he stated, brown eyes gazing at them intently. "What do you mean by that? He's not a seer, is he?"

Hermione shifted, slightly uncomfortable, although she gave a snort of contempt at the mere mention of Divination. The discovery that true prophecies really did exist had not changed her feelings towards the art. "No," she corrected, clasping her hands together. For all that he seemed to be much better than before she was still a bit nervous about talking about James' death with him. "Erm, when he, well when... what I mean to say is – "

"Oh, just get on with it, 'Mione!" cried Ron, exasperated.

Hermione fixed him with the fiercest glare she could muster and Ron shrank back slightly. "Be quiet, Ronald," she hissed, irritably. "I don't see you saying anything."

"Actually, it's hear," pointed out James, before the Hermione glare was turned on him and he shut up too. '_Boys_,' though Hermione, annoyed. "Now, if you two would kindly stop interrupting me... When Voldermort attacked and killed you, he tried to kill Harry, too, but when he cursed him it backfired and, er, sort of destroyed Voldemort."

"HOLY BLOODY MERLIN WITH SPOTS ON!"

The small amount of drowsy chatter that had been going on in the Great Hall stopped suddenly, all turning to stare at a very red Ron and Hermione and an oblivious James, who had jumped to his feet and was currently yelling expletives left right and centre.

"You mean – at one - well explode my head and use me as a pate for a dinner party! I can't believe it! It's unbelievable – HOLY PINK OWLS!"

"Shut up, James!" hissed Hermione, hurriedly casting a silencing spell on James when he showed no sign of stopping. She and Ron grabbed an arm each and yanked him back down to the floor. James' mouth was still working and he hadn't appeared to have noticed that there was no sound coming out of it. Hermione found her face burning as the rest of the Hall continued to stare at James. Quite a few were laughing, but a couple of people were calling out to tell him to shut up – which he had already done.

Hermione felt someone's gaze n her and turned to see Ron grinning at her. "Holy pink owls, eh?" he repeated, shaking his head. "I'm going to have to remember that one – and 'explode my head and use me as pate for a dinner party' too. What idiotic things to say."

Hermione tried to glare at Ron disapprovingly – after all, this was not the time to be cracking jokes – but found she couldn't. She gave a little giggle and Ron shot back in alarm at the sound. This just made her laugh harder and harder, until she had to grab a hold of herself before she turned hysterical. If she went as wacko as James was then how would they get home? Well, she supposed there was still Ron, but he was pretty useless at this sort of thing.

When she stopped laughing Ron eased forward a bit and looked less alarmed. He was about to say something when a shadow loomed over them and they jumped.

"Is he alright?" came a familiar voice and they looked up to see Remus frowning uncertainly in James direction, who was still silently yelling and seemed to be attacking his boot with a sort of happy grin.

Hermione and Ron exchanged glances. "Er, yeah – he just got a shock," said Ron hurriedly. "We told him about a new racing broom prototype that comes out in.. er, one year. It's supposed to be the best yet and James got a little carried away.

Hermione suppressed a groan. That had to be the worst fabrication to ever exist and she could tell that Remus wasn't buying it at all. But he just sighed wearily. "Fine, fine," he dismissed, shooting James one last glance before walking off to patrol. He turned round suddenly, saying, "Make sure to keep him quiet, otherwise no one will get any sleep."

Hermione heaved a sigh of relief, exchanging glances with Ron. They turned back to look at James. Hermione wasn't sure if he was happy or angry or just incredulous. She could understand the incredulity part and even the happy part – after all, it meant his son was a hero – but angry? He still hadn't seemed to have noticed the distinct lack of noise that his vocal chords was making, although he had stopped yelling and was now muttering to himself, running a hand through his already messy hair.

"Do you think we should take the charm off now, 'Mione?" whispered Ron, looking at her. "He doesn't seem to be yelling anymore."

"No," agreed Hermione. "Poor James – it hasn't exactly been his day, has it?" Ron just gave a sad smile as Hermione waved her wand with a flourish, cancelling the spell. "Finite Incantatum!"

" ...my son! My son – defeated Voldermort? And I die just before it happens! Poor Harry – I – "

"James?" ventured Hermione, inching forward best she could considering the fact that she was still ensconced in her sleeping bag. When James carried on thinking out loud, she timidly put out a hand and touched his shoulder. He jumped and looked up at the two of them, eyes red and – to their astonishment – filling with tears. "James?" Hermione repeated uncertainly.

"I'll never get to know him, will I?" whispered James, tears spilling onto his cheeks. "He'll have saved the world, but I won't even be able to save myself to be there for him. I won't be able to grow old, Hermione. I'll be dead in a few years time – gone. I won't exist for him. I won't be able to do any of the things I've always wanted to do. I've never told Sirius, but I've always wanted to be a father, but now I won't get the chance." And, to their horror, James Potter, star seeker, infamous Marauder and flirt, broke into heart wrenching sobs and launched himself on Hermione, the tears spilling onto her robes. She sat, frozen, for a second or two before her brain kicked in and she, too, wrapped her arms around James, patting his back and saying "there, there" in as soothing a voice as possible. She felt very awkward just sitting there and she was very glad that most of the school was now asleep, or else the school gossipers would have had a field day.

She could see Ron out of the corner of her eye, looking both shocked and awkward. He caught her eye and mouthed 'Are you ok?'. She rolled her eyes at him. Ron was so sweet in always asking of her, but when it was so obvious that she was no the one in need of attention it was very annoying. So Ron just sat there, looking around the Hall to see if anyone was watching them, interspersed with sly glances at the two of them, still wrapped around each other. Hermione was starting to get cramp in her shoulders and her neck was getting very stiff, when James suddenly pulled out of her embrace.

James' eyes were red and puffy and he had red marks down his cheeks were he had cried. He looked apologetic, but also much lighter as though a great weight had been lifted off his chest. '_And_,' Hermione thought to herself, '_it_ _probably has. After all, he's been carrying around all this knowledge about the future – about his death, Sirius' death – and he can't tell anyone. We're the only ones he can tell. And Sirius seems to be moving away from him too_.' She sighed, but smiled at him. She cut off his apology.

"Don't worry about it, James," she said, finally being able to stretch out the crick in her neck. "Everyone needs to have a good bawl now and then – it's therapeutic."

James scowled at her, but it was half hearted. "Yes, but I am not a girl, 'Mione," he pointed out. Hermione groaned. '_Great, now even my best friend's_ parents_ have started calling me 'Mione. Will it never go away?_'

"Ron, before this conversation goes any further, can you at least tell me _where_ on Earth you got the name 'Mione in the first place?" she asked, allowing herself to be distracted in the pursuit of understanding.

Ron grinned at her, eyes gleaming wickedly in the dim candlelight and reflected star glow from the ceiling. "Well, I figured I do the whole Her_mione_ thing so many times that there really isn't much point in putting in the 'Her' part. Hence, 'Mione."

James actually laughed as Hermione scowled and stuck her tongue out at Ron in a very un-Hermione way. At the sound of laughter Ron and Hermione both froze and stared at James in shock. He looked a bit surprised at the adverse to reaction to laughter, but then gave a sad smile.

"Guess I haven't really been doing that too much the past couple of days," he remarked, looking directly at them, hands playing with a piece of loose thread from his robes.

"No," said Ron, looking at the floor. At James sigh he looked up again. "It's nothing to be ashamed about," he added. "I wouldn't feel like laughing much if I were in your shoes either."

James put his head in his hands, long faced again. "It's just, I love my dad," said James. He gave a goofy sort of grin. "I know most people don't but I do. And I've always wanted to pass that on to my own kid one day. I've never told Sirius because he wouldn't understand, I think. He hates his family – I suppose you know that, don't you?" he asked, looking at them for affirmation. They nodded. "He's more of a player – doesn't think long term, just settles for the here and now."

"And you're not?" asked Hermione, somewhat unbelievingly.

James grinned at her. "Course not. I want to get married and have a family and be a dad." He sighed. "That's why I've been chasing Evans so long. She's just the sort of person I'd want to be with for the rest of my life. If I was Sirius I'd have given up centuries ago and settle for any one willing. But, well, now I don't get that chance to be a dad."

"Don't you see, James?" asked Hermione, this small confession raising James back up to the impression she had held of him before she had actually met him. "This is your chance. Be there for Harry now. He needs you and I know he's always held you as his role model, even if he's never really met you."

"Be there for him now."

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

Something gold was glinting just above him. The Snitch! He tried to catch it, but his arms were too heavy.

He blinked. It wasn't the snitch after all. It was a pair of glasses. How strange.

'_Wait a second_,' thought Harry suddenly, '_haven't I already done this?_'

He blinked again and, just as he suspected, the smiling face of a much younger Albus Dumbledore swam into view above him.

"Good evening, Harry," said Dumbledore.

'_Ok, so this is a little creepy._'

Harry swallowed and tried to sit up, but had to bite his lip as he pushed on his injured hand. Even through the immense bandaging he could see, the pressure still caused a nasty jolt. He swallowed once more and tried again. "Hello, Professor, sir." Harry wondered when he'd become so formal.

"How are you feeling?"

Harry shrugged, not really too sure how he felt. True, his hand was aching slightly, but that wasn't new. In fact, he was almost – well, not used to it, but more resigned to it by now. Less fortunate was the fact that he had also become quite resigned to the disgusting blood replenishing potion he had to take for it. He didn't know what to say about that. He also felt rather odd, though this wasn't a physical pain. He felt wrong inside, slightly, like part of him was missing, but he didn't know what to say about that, either.

So, he settled on the usual. "I'm fine, Professor." Dumbledore nodded, as though this had been the answer he had been expecting. Harry then added "Why?" as he couldn't remember why he was here, in the Hospital Wing.

Dumbledore gave him a light frown. "Well, after that attack from the monstrous creature on yourself and Mr Black in the Great Hall earlier this evening, I'd have thought it common courtesy, even though Madam Pomfrey assures me that you are indeed, 'fine'. Well, excluding your, ah, hand injury, of course." He smiled at Harry again. "Though I must admit to not only enquiring after physical health, but rather your mental state as well."

Unfortunately, Dumbledore's words slipped right over Harry's head after the first half a sentence. _''Malfoy', Sirius – Oh my God!_'

"Sirius!" yelled Harry quite suddenly and Dumbledore actually jumped. Harry, however, did not notice as he attempted to scramble out of bed. "Is he alright? Where is he? What happened?"

"Please calm down, Mr Potter, or Madam Pomfrey will undoubtedly throw me out," said Dumbledore, restraining Harry from dashing off with a strength that was surprising in the old man. Harry blinked at this other echo of déja vu, which unfortunately gave the Headmaster ample opportunity to manoeuvre him back on the bed.

"Mr Black is fine," Dumbledore told Harry, blue eyes still twinkling though his gaze had gotten sharper and a little more focused. Harry – not for the first time in his life – got the feeling that Dumbledore was looking right through him. "In fact, despite the fact that he appeared to be in shock and a short loss of consciousness, Mr Black was in perfect health. Not a scratch on him, which was remarkable, considering the way we all saw the beast go for him."

Here, Dumbledore seemed to be expecting a sort of reaction as he peered at Harry closely, but Harry was too relieved to care. '_Sirius is fine, he's alright. I don't have to do _that_ again._' He grinned at the Headmaster and finding him still gazing at him in an intense manner. It was as though he expected Harry to know why Sirius had not been harmed at all – and why he, Harry, seemed to be the one physically injured instead. Well, for once in his life, Harry really _didn't_ know.

When Harry didn't say anything, Dumbledore sighed and leaned backwards, before getting to his feet in a tired way. "I want you to know that we have searched the castle and a fair part of the school grounds for the monster, but have been unable to find a trace so far. The rest of the school are sleeping in the Great Hall, but you and Mr Black will remain here under supervision – "

"Sirius is here?" asked Harry, excited and jumping out of bed once more. Dumbledore smiled at him.

"Yes, but it will do you no good to see him," he informed the disappointed teenager, eyes twinkling more than ever. "Mr Black tends to bounce back rather quickly and was making such a noise and hovering around you and getting in Poppy's ways so much that she had to force feed him a sleeping draft to, and I quote, "_prevent him from harming himself or others._" Although, I must say that I have never seen Madam Pomfrey so wickedly happy as she did upon dosing Mr Black. So I would suggest that you keep quiet and in bed."

Harry grinned. That sounded like Sirius.

Dumbledore bade him goodnight and walked towards the hospital wing door, beefier suddenly turning around. "Oh, just one more thing, Mr Potter," he said, eyes scrutinising him more than ever. "Is there anything you wish to tell me?"

'_Well, this certainly is a day for flashbacks – or is it forwards? Ugh. Great. Now I'm going to get a headache,_' Harry thought as his thoughts raced along at a hundred miles per hour. He thought about his perverted patronus, which sought to suck in everything that was happy from him, just like a dementor. He thought of 'Malfoy's' other appearances, his appearance in that mysterious corridor that had brought he, Ron and Hermione here and the link to his hand. He thought about James and Sirius and their knowledge that he was from the future. He thought about James breaking off from the Marauders. But, mostly, he thought about the future. About how Sirius was the bluff, Peter the traitor. He thought about Professor Quirrell, the Basilisk and the Triwizard Tournament in his fourth year. He thought about the Department of Mysteries and Fudges' denial. He thought about trials and he thought about truth serums.

"No, sir," Harry replied, nostalgia hitting again as he let the moment pass him by. "Nothing at all."

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

Sirius woke up. It cannot be said that he woke up gradually, or with a groan, or with the stuffing of his head under the pillows. He just was suddenly wide awake and ready to start some serious pranking (as was his whole life, more or less).

Unfortunately, this method of being suddenly awake meant that there was not a single moment where Sirius did not remember the horrible events that had taken place last night and he was suddenly plagued over and over with the images and echoes of pain of that monster attacking him.

He shivered, looking down at his arms and body once more, still unable to believe that all his limbs were still there. He had felt the monsters' teeth tearing into his arms, the cool wetness of it's drool and the sticky warmth that was his own blood. For a moment he was overwhelmed by the sensations and pains of being slowly and agonisingly killed, shivering and shuddering all over in the mere memory of it, before a little voice in the back of his head, one that had always helped him along when staying with his horrendous 'family', spoke up.

"_Get a grip of yourself, you bloody idiot! What are you, a Hufflepuff?_" it asked contemptuously. "_You're a Gryffindor – get a hold of yourself._"

True, the little voice was a little rude and blunt, but Sirius himself was not exactly Mr Courteous or Mr Tactful. Remus often said, in rather despairing tones, that Sirius' brain never seemed to connect with his mouth and that his perception was about as bad as a bat's who is on the sun and who's just lost his hearing aid and has tonsillitis in any case. But Remus was wrong about Sirius. Sirius did pick up on things – like James' new attitude towards him. It was hard to describe, but it was as though Sirius were suddenly made of glass and had to be respected and cushioned. Whilst at first Sirius had enjoyed the extra attention and willingness from James he had missed his best friend's outgoing nature and enthusiasm. _'For Merlin's sake,_' Sirius reflected grumpily. '_It's not like I'm dying. I get enough devoted attention from Peter._'

That was tolerable but now... Sirius seethed and clenched his fists. He hated being replaced and James was turning into a depressing bookworm, who would rather hang out with Ron in the library than him, his best friend of five nearly six years. He had unconsciously blocked Hermione from this because he still planned on going out with her, but it was just barely so. Well, Sirius had Harry for a friend now and –

"Holy Merlin! Harry!" cried Sirius, leaping out of bed and running over to his godson's bed. Harry was lying there peacefully, curled up in the foetal position. Sirius grinned wickedly at the sleeping form, saying "Aw, how cute!" before he drew a deep breath and attacking Harry suddenly, yelling, "Harreeeeee!"

"Aaaaarrrrgggghhhhhh!" Pale arms began floundering around in a panic and Sirius ran back to his bed, his work done. He watched with a grin as Harry, still kicking and flailing, toppled sideways out of bed and landed, cheek down on the floor.

"Ow!"

"What the – Goodness gracious me!" came a scandalised shout and the bustling form of Madam Pomfrey came into view, waving her arms frantically. Harry's legs were still on the bed, tangled helplessly in the bed covers and his cheek was currently being pressed into the floor. "Mr Potter! What on Earth are you doing?"

As she pulled Harry somewhat precariously back onto the bed, Sirius saw Harry scowl and retort, "I didn't do it on purpose, Madam Pomfrey." His voice sounded a little odd because his cheek was still slightly squashed. "I was asleep before something – " He broke off suddenly, eyes narrowing as he glared over at Sirius. "Sirius..." he growled.

"Who, me?" asked Sirius, eyes wide and innocent.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

Two buckets of water, a cheering charm and a couple of semi transfigurations later, Harry and Sirius were sitting in the kitchens, tucking into a huge breakfast. It had taken them an age before Madam Pomfrey would let them go – they had finally cottoned on that cursing each other continually was not going to help in this matter – and, as a result, they had missed breakfast. Now they were more than making up for the lack of food, with the always helpful house elves practically force feeding them, which was fine because they were both really hungry.

Swallowing a mouthful of thick porridge with lashings of golden syrup, Harry really noticed the distinct lack of Dobby. For starters he hadn't been attacked upon entering the kitchens and then there was a slight monotony to the house elves without Dobby's absurd socks, jumpers and tea cosy hats. But, then again, if Dobby was here then Harry would have to resign himself for a lot of incidents with bludgers and the like, as Dobby would probably see it his mission to protect Harry from this new monster.

Sirius ate rather like Ron did – basically, just stuff as much as you can into your mouth and still chew (mouth does not have to be open to enable this). It was rather disturbing to remind Harry somewhat of Dudley and he resolved to have a long talk with Ron about table manners when they got back – '_wait, I'm not going back,_' corrected Harry, moving on to some sausages. '_Oh well, I'll just tell him whenever I see him next._'

It rather disturbed Harry how little he was seeing of Ron and Hermione these days. Of course, if they were just going to pester him about the future then he wasn't going to bother, but they were his best friends. They'd been with him through everything – '_well, maybe not everything,_' Harry reflected, thinking back to Ron's absence at the start of his fourth year. '_But still. I owe it to talk to them at least, don't I?_'

He self-consciously checked once again that the bottle of blood replenishing potion was safe in his pocket. Even after they had stopped hexing each other it had taken a while before Madam Pomfrey relented to give Harry a days worth of the potion, saying the wanted to hole themselves up in the library to do work and did not want to be disturbed. Harry seriously did not believe that Madam Pomfrey really believed them – something to do with the fact that they had been pranking each other for the past half hour – but it seemed that the witch had come to the end of her tethers and handed over the bottle, eyes shut and lips moving as though she were praying to some higher being to free her from the likes of Sirius and himself. The little bottle really scared him sometimes. It was easy to forget, caught up in the excitement of school life, what exactly would happen if he forgot to take a dose of his potion. Death was hovering right behind him and he was just ignoring it. Just like he was ignoring the death of –

'_No, don't even go there,_' Harry told himself, firmly, unknowingly shaking his head as he bit into a sausage. '_He's not… well, just forget it._' The potion was much easier to take now, Madam Pomfrey giving him a large tub of the stuff to take at night and in the morning. That way he avoided breaking school curfew rules and was safer in the event of an attack like the one the other day. He still had to see her at lunch times, which was a pain, but preferable to death any day.

"Harry – Snape!" exclaimed Sirius suddenly and Harry half turned in trepidation before he realised Sirius was laughing and turned back to glare at him, but Sirius wasn't watching. "I'd almost forgotten that prank we pulled! That Ravenclaws' face! Oh, I wish I had a camera right now so I could frame it and put it above my bed so I'd see it every morning!"

Harry, realising what Sirius was on about, smirked. "Above your bed, Sirius?" he asked in feigned horror. "You'd be seriously traumatised with that grease ball as the first thing you'd see in the morning!"

Sirius pulled a face. "Maybe you're right," he agreed, before moving onto greater things. "Well, if that's spell's still on I'm going to have to take a photo and get the copyrights. I could make a fortune selling copies!"

As the two burst into laughter again, Harry's guilt over Ron and Hermione faded away and he forgot all about them.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

Remus cleared his throat and began again, getting slightly exasperated. How difficult was it to make himself coherent!

"Now, look James," he said, pale forehead creased in thought. He put his hands on his hips, realised that made him look like a girl and sat down on his bed, to avoid having something to do with his hands, for now he'd started thinking about them he was panicking over where his arms were and, as he reminded himself, that was not the important issue right now. He started again – for what felt like the umpteenth time.

"Look, James," he said, in as calm and non-pressuring voice as possible, "what's up with you and Sirius? I mean, it's like you two hate each other – no, no, that's too strong a word." Remus hit himself in the forehead and tried again. "Ok, well, it's like you're almost indifferent to each other, like you don't care. And you're so, well, _depressed_. I mean, I get a bit annoying before a full moon, but I'm expecting to read a suicide note any day now, James. No, no, don't try to deny it!" he said, shaking his head and becoming aware that he was suddenly waving his arms about in front of him. 'Damn it! Why can't they just stay _still_?' He was back to panicking about his hands again and settled on folding them across his chest. "Look, you never smile, you never laugh – I mean, ahem, disapproving though I tend to be of your pranks, at the one last night you barely even _smiled_. Why is Sirius replacing you with Harry? And why are – "

"You know, talking to yourself is the first sign of madness, Moony."

Remus jumped so much that when he landed back on the bed it bounced him off and he tripped over his trunk to land face down on the floor. Nose slightly squished, he greeted his fellow Marauder in falsely cheerful tones. "Peter, never do that again. Hasn't anyone told you to creep up on people?"

"Lots," replied Peter in a cheery tone, making to pull Remus off the floor. "But I can't help it – I'm just as quiet as a – "

"Don't say it!" warned Remus in woeful anticipation of a bad joke.

" – rat!" finished Peter and Remus groaned.

"Can't you knock or something?" asked Remus, rather irritated at being caught talking to himself.

"Why? It's my dorm room," Peter pointed out. As Remus nodded in defeat, Peter suddenly looked rather nervous and started shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. Remus raised an eyebrow and Peter cleared his throat nervously.

"Look, Remus, there's... there's something I've been meaning to ask you," Peter began awkwardly, making to sit on his own bed.

Remus stared at him, curious. Peter wasn't the type of person to need one-on-ones. He was very open with his feelings and never worried about something long enough or hard enough to see someone alone. He usually brought it up when they were in a group meeting somewhere. Remus could count on one hand the number of times he had had a one-to-one with Peter, but he had lost track of all the times he'd had one with Sirius and James – at least important ones, as this clearly was.

"Go on," he said, nodding and encouraging Peter. Sometimes he wondered how Wormtail had ended up in Gryffindor, the house of bravery, when he was such an awkward boy and very timid and shy. But then, there was more to Gryffindor than bravery, just as there was more to Ravenclaw than intelligence, more to Hufflepuff than loyalty and more to Slytherins than wannabe Deatheaters, as James and Sirius so often cast them.

"Well, it's about Sirius and James," began Peter and Remus smiled in understanding, although secretly a little surprised that Peter had picked up on it. The rat animagus was worse than even Sirius was at picking up the subtle moods and tensions of a group, but then again, the fall out between James and Sirius was so obvious the whole school was talking about it.

"They don't seem like James and Sirius anymore, do they," he said, smile turning sad. "I don't know what's got into them, but I know it's something to do with the time travellers. James started acting funny after about the second or third day. Actually, I think it was after the Quidditch tryouts. He's just getting worse and worse."

"And Sirius doesn't seem to care, which is really weird," piped up Peter, looking relieved that Remus knew what he was talking about. "You'd think if James was depressed Sirius would be the first to confront him about it, but he seems to be entirely clueless or doesn't care."

Remus sighed and stood up. "Well, Sirius always jumps to the wrong conclusions and calls a dog black when it really just got covered in paint and is really white."

"Huh?" asked Peter, looking up at Remus confused.

Remus sighed. "Never mind," he responded and headed towards the door. "Actually, I was about to ask James about it now – that's why I was talking to myself. Practising what I wanted to say. Coming?"

Peter nodded and jumped to his feet a lot more successfully than Remus had done a few minutes prior. "But practising or not," he told the werewolf as they headed down the stairs, "talking to yourself is still the first sign of madness."

"Actually," corrected Remus, "I think that's conversing with yourself. Because everyone talks to themselves, which would mean we're _all_ mad. It's when you start answering back that's a little bit worrying."

"Oh."

They came out into the common room where, sure enough, James was having what looked like a rather heated conversation with the other two time travellers, Ron and Hermione. He was just about to go up to them when he felt eyes on him. Looking around he suddenly reached out a hand to stop Peter, who was already ambling towards the trio.

"What is it, Remus?" asked Peter, in confusion.

In response, Remus started dragging Peter towards a small figure seated by one of the windows in one of the comfy, squishy armchairs. She was watching them with emerald eyes.

Peter followed his gaze and their line of trajectory and drew in a sharp breath. "Evans?" he hissed, taken aback. "Why are we bothering with her, Remus?"

Remus, once more, did not reply as they had just reached Evans.

"Coming, Lily?" he asked politely and fought back a grin as he felt Peter's astonished gaze on the two of them.

Lily nodded and stood up, brushing off her skirt, which had collected quite a gathering of dust from the large tomes she had been reading. She glanced over to James before fixing Remus with a sharp stare. "Know what you're going to say to him yet?" she enquired as they walked towards the three, leaving an open mouthed Wormtail to follow in his wake.

Remus thought back to his pitiful attempts in the dorm room and shook his head. "No, not really," he confessed, 'accidentally' stepping on Peter's foot as he tried to protest. "I believe we are just going to have to 'wing it'."

"'_Wing_ it'?" echoed Lily, eyebrow arched and definitely smirking.

Remus blushed and shrugged. "Sirius," he replied as way of an answer.

They reached the table at which the three sixth years were hunched about a particularly tatty looking old volume. They were arguing in fierce whispers, but in a sort of sixth sense way, they all suddenly stopped when Remus got close enough to hear what they were saying and looked round at them. They didn't say anything.

"James, we need to talk..."

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

About an hour later – and a couple of pounds heavier to Harry's mind – Sirius and Harry escaped into the brilliant sunlight that was blessing the Hogwarts grounds that day. As they made their way across the grass towards the lake, Sirius found his mind on the events of last night once more. He had managed to suppress most of it during their somewhat delayed breakfast – memory suppression being a skill he was immensely proud of – but now he found his mind was being bombarded with questions. '_What _was_ that thing? Harry seemed to recognise it. And how come I've not got a scratch on me, when I felt it killing me? And why did Harry almost die when it didn't come anywhere _near_ him?_'

He shot a glance at Harry next to him, who was whistling merrily, looking out across the grounds. He didn't seem troubled by anything, which was ironic because he seemed to be the one in a worse position than Sirius was. In fact, he looked extremely happy.

"Harry," Sirius began, stopping and carefully watching Harry for a reaction. Harry turned round and grinned at him.

"Yes, Padfoot?" he asked, hands in the pockets of his robes.

Sirius hesitated, trying to pick out his next few words carefully, otherwise he felt sure that Harry would close up like a clam. "That... _thing_ last night." Harry's grin became less happy and more fixed. "What was it?"

Harry sighed and looked away. "I don't know," he said, sounding a bit annoyed. "Me, Ron and Hermione call him 'Malfoy' – "

Sirius let out a great snort of laughter. "After the family?" he asked, trying not to snigger. "My cousin, Narcissa – " he pulled a face – "is dating their son, Lucius. He's an aristocratic, slithering, prejudiced bastard and, consequently, a match made in heaven for my dear cousin."

Harry mumbled something like, "You should meet their son" but he couldn't be sure. Anyway, Harry gave a slightly forced laugh and carried on. "Yeah, after the family and he keeps turning up randomly. Seems to have a thing for me, but that's nothing new." He suddenly stopped there and Sirius saw him tense a little, as though he had said too much.

"Do you know what it is?" Sirius persisted, curiosity piqued.

But Harry, obviously not very keen on answering any of Sirius' questions, simply said "No" before changing the subject. "So, what your next plan of action for capturing the heart of Hermione, Sirius?" he asked, smirking.

Sirius sighed inwardly. It was clear Harry didn't really want to talk about 'Malfoy' at the moment, but Sirius wasn't going to let it go. Later he'd ask again, maybe even tell him the truth – that he knew that he was from the future. Maybe that would loosen some tongues! But, for now, talking about Hermione was a subject he could on about for a very long time...

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

"James! Ron!"

James and Ron, who had been engaged in a game of chess in the common room when the loud shout had suddenly rang through the air. Truth be told, Ron had been rather glad of the interruption, as it was clear that Harry had not received his father's genes when it came to playing chess. At the moment Ron was on the edge of drastically loosing and this meant they would have to abstain and Ron would be spared the humiliation of loosing.

James, as if he sensed what was on Ron's mind, looked up and grinned at him, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "It's not over yet, Ron," he smirked, running his hand through his hair. "I want a rematch. I've not had this much of a challenge for ages."

As Ron suppressed a groan – it looked like his unbeatable record was about to be broken – he couldn't quite get over the change in James. Yesterday James looked like he was more likely to drop dead than if he was than an elderly mouse who was prone to fatal heart attacks and had just spotted a cat creeping his way. But now, less than 24 hours after learning of his own young death, he was all laughter, fun and flirtation once more, like he had been when they had first arrived. He wasn't over his death yet – Ron could see it in his eyes every now and then, when he just stared off into space waiting for Ron to make his move – but he was coping.

Even if they had intended to carry on with their chess match, it was made quite impossible by the arrival of Hermione, who thumped a large, tatty book on the chess board, scattering the chess pieces every which way. They gave little squeaks of protest, but Hermione ignored them and just slumped miserably into an empty armchair.

Ron stared.

She looked terrible. He found it hard to imagine that there would be ever a situation where this would be true, but there it was. Her hair looked like a crows nest and it was clear she hadn't bothered at all with even a brush, let alone a sleek and shine charm which she had recently discovered courtesy of Ginny. Her eyes were extremely red and puffy and there were horrendous bags under her eyes. Her robes looked as though she had slept in them and Ron would have been willing to bet that they had except for the fact that they were inside out. They hadn't seen Hermione all day and it was now mid afternoon. They had been quite worried and even bribed one of the other sixth year girls – well, all James had to do was smile flirtatiously and ask her with a very flowery voice – to check on Hermione and she had come back with a message from Hermione saying that she was reading and was not to be disturbed. Now Ron had to wonder what on Earth she had been reading – "_The Hundred Best and Surest Ways to Land Yourself in Extreme Depression"_?

As he stared into the usually lively chocolate eyes, he thought of a muggle game Harry had once told him about – pass the parcel. Hermione's eyes where dead and haunted and brimmed with tears, red streaks down her cheeks showing that she already had been crying a great deal. Her hands trembled and her face was pulled into an expression of such depression that it looked as though everyone she had known had just died on her. '_It's ironic,_' thought Ron, mouth open in horror at Hermione's appearance, '_that as soon as we get rid of one lot of depression someone else gets it. First it was Harry, then he got better but James got depressed. Now James is recovering and Hermione gets it. Pass the parcel indeed! I hope I'm not next._' James was also staring at Hermione in shock, mouth open wide.

"Hermione!" Ron heard himself say in horror. "What's in Merlin's name is the matter?"

Hermione gave a loud sniff. "It's this book," she began, waving a pale hand at it.

"What, it makes you depressed?" asked Ron stupidly. But Hermione didn't even glare at him. No sharp hit to the head, no "Honestly, Ron". Nothing.

"Read the title," she instructed, voice sounding deadpan and lifeless.

James twisted his head round and read out loud, eyebrow's rising in surprise. "_A Magically Self Updating Comprehensive Guide To All Forms Of Temporal Journeys._" He looked up at her in astonishment. "So this has every form of magical travel possible?" he asked, eyes looking slightly suspicious.

Hermione gave a great sniff and nodded his head. "I woke up early this morning and couldn't go back to sleep. So I went to the Tower and thought I'd make myself useful. I spent most of the morning putting it back together and reading it. As soon as I realised what it was I got really excited because this will definitely tell us how to get back, but I finished it and there's _nothing_! Nothing at all!" And she burst into great, heart wrenching sobs.

Ron immediately went to comfort her, whilst glancing around the Common Room. Most people were making use of the sunshine outside, but the few that were present were staring at them in astonishment. He flushed and turned his attention back to Hermione. "Shh, Hermione!" he muttered in what he hoped was a soothing voice. "Please stop crying! I mean, it could be wrong! It's only a book!"

Hermione's head snapped up at him. "_Only a book_, Ronald?" she gasped, incredulously. She gave a fierce scowl and literally growled. "Did you not happen to comprehend the meaning of the title? This book contains _every_ possible method of time travel known to wizarding kind at the present time and there is nothing in there to explain how we got here, anything about 'Malfoy' or how we will even _attempt_ to get back! Don't you understand or something?"

All for this was said in very fierce whispers, though Ron could see that Hermione was having difficulty in restraining herself from yelling. Probably the only thing that did was her wish to save the time line.

James still looked slightly dubious and suspicious. "Oh, come on, Hermione," he scoffed, picking up the book and flicking through it's pages warily. "Trust me, if there had been a book like this in the library before now me and Sirius" – his face briefly twisted painfully before he carried on – "me and Sirius would have found it ages ago. A book that tells you how to travel through time? How unlikely _is_ that? And if it was, how come it wasn't in the restricted section? Because it should be. I mean, Dumbledore has always been a bit dippy, but even he would have more sense than to place a book like this in such an easily accessible place where students like me and Sirius could find it."

"He does have a point, Hermione," agreed Ron, now looking at the book with suspicion as well. "I mean, I don't remember seeing that book before, do you?"

James shook his head and Hermione did too, before suddenly shaking Ron off her shoulders irritably and glaring at them. "It doesn't matter!" she snapped. "It doesn't matter if it's suspicious or not, just that the book is what it is. It's magically updating Ron. If there's nothing in there that will help us get home then that's because it doesn't exist!"

But James and Ron did not hold such faith in books and they exchanged glances before Ron tried his luck again. "Well, that book only contains knowledge about time travel techniques from now – the 1970s. We're from the 1990's. Maybe what got us here hasn't been discovered or invented yet. That could be why it's not in there. In which case – "

"In which case it doesn't matter at all, because it means the spell or object's in the future and we still can't back!" snapped Hermione again, glaring at Ron. "Honestly, Ron, can't you use your brains for once?"

"Well, I refuse to give up all hope just because a highly suspicious book says to!" snapped Ron, glaring back at Hermione. "Come on, Hermione – use your brains! And you're supposed to be the smart one!" he exclaimed, exasperated. "If we had honestly picked up that book in the library, don't you think that it would be the first one we would have read?"

Hermione sighed and put her head in her hands, frustrated. But it was a damn sight better than depression to Ron's mind. The red head turned to James who was examining the tome in deep scrutiny. "What about time turners?" he asked James.

But it was Hermione who spoke up. "There's a lock out on time turners," she said, voice strangely muffled through the thick cloth of her robes. She looked up at them, eyes desolate again. "They only turn backwards, to stop witches and wizards from jumping forwards."

Ron refused to let that beat him. "James?" he enquired, purposefully ignoring Hermione who was glaring at him again.

James stroked his chin thoughtfully. "The fact that they have to put a lock on the time turners shows that they can be turned forwards otherwise, just like a normal hourglass." He shrugged. "If we got hold of one I'm pretty sure we could disable the charm," he said, ignoring Hermione's disbelieving snort. His expression tensed, as he added, "Of course, I would need Padfoot and Moony's help at the very least. Hermione's too, probably."

'But how many hundreds of times are we going to have to turn that wretched thing?' Ron thought suddenly. He could just imagine suddenly loosing count halfway through or missing a turn and going forward only a few years, rather than the decades they needed. He voiced this out loud.

"You do realise that the Ministry designs them with a limit to the number of turns you can do, don't you?" asked Hermione, who seemed determined to pour hot oil all over their plans. Ron – not for the first time in his life, he was ashamed to say – wanted to hit her. "It's to prevent witches and wizards drastically changing the past. And that's built into the design, so you can't change that."

"Well, how long is it?" asked Ron, through gritted teeth.

"Two years, I think, but you have to wait two years before you can use it again, to stop people just jumping back another two years when they get to the past."

"Two years?" hissed Ron, remembering just in time not to yell, though he was having a hard time stopping himself hitting her. Why was she sounding so smug? 'This is _not_ a good thing, Hermione!' "And then we have to wait another two years? We won't get back until we're in our late twenties that way!"

"Well, maybe we can design a new time turner that will allow us to jump further than two years," suggested James, once again ignoring Hermione's derisive snort. "Of course, we'd need to get a conventional time turner first. But maybe we could rig it so that hours are years. That would be _much_ easier than building a whole new time turner. Not that it would be easy anyway. Of course, all of this depends on whether Padfoot is willing to talk to me again," he finished, somewhat sadly.

"I'd like to see that!" hissed Hermione, glaring at them. "Look, I read the section on time turners in that book thoroughly and it doesn't say anything about them being used for going forward through time so it's just not possible!"

"Maybe because no one's ever tried it before, Hermione!" snapped Ron, hunching over the tatty volume to further look at it. "And I still think it's just too fishy and – "

James suddenly tensed slightly, and lightly cleared his throat. Ron immediately stopped what he was saying and all three turned around to see a very odd group approaching them; Remus, Peter and Lily.

Ron shot a look across the table to James, whose expression had become a little silly and wistful at the appearance of Lily. Ron remembered what he had said last night, about not being a player, and bit back a grin. James looked like a love stricken puppy and twice as daft.

Remus looked a bit apprehensive as he opened his mouth. "James, we need to talk..."

James raised an eyebrow and glanced at Lily and Peter before sighing and looking at Ron and Hermione. "Excuse me," he said and got to his feet. Ron stared after them, glad to notice that Hermione had enough sense of mind to cover up the tatty tome when Lily and Peter looked at curiously. Remus and James were heading towards the boys dormitory, Lily following a little dubiously. Peter looked like he was dying to say something, but was keeping it to himself at a stern look from Remus. Ron and Hermione exchanged looks as they disappeared out of sight up the stairs.

"I wonder what all that was about," commented Ron, still staring at where the four had disappeared.

Hermione grabbed the book and got to her feet. "Well, let's find out, shall we?" she asked, before hurrying to the boys staircase.

Ron stared after her in shock, frozen, for a few seconds, before he lurched to his feet and dashed after her. She was already a few steps up by the time he caught her up. "Hermione!" he hissed, as she paused to stare back at him. "What are you _doing_?"

She raised an eyebrow elegantly. "Eaves dropping," she replied, coolly. "Why?"

Ron stared at her open mouthed for a few seconds, before giving himself a shake and grinning at her. "No reason," he replied, ascending the few steps between them and gesturing in front of her elegantly. "Shall we?"

Hermione grinned at him and carried on up the steps. Ron grinned at her back. 'I don't know whether to be horrified, happy or to call for a doctor.'

They finally reached the top of the stairs where the sixth year dormitories were. They paused slightly, seeing as the door was open, but as soon as it had shut they crept forward and pressed their ears against the door. They caught the end of Lily's angry question:

"... the matter with you, Potter?"

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

Love,

Hannanora-Potter

~x~x~x~


	13. In which there are cliffhangers

**Title:** Time is a Healer

**Summary:** Harry, Ron and Hermione are suddenly and inexplicably thrown into the Marauders' sixth year at Hogwarts. Delighted with this chance to meet his parents and reunite with the recently deceased Sirius, Harry soon starts to cut his ties for the future, leaving Ron and Hermione seriously worried. And what's the monster that's starting to stalk Harry?

**Timeline and Spoilers:** Books 1 through 5, at the beginning of Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts (very beginning)

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and any related characters and setting are all the property of J.K. Rowling and not me.

**Extra:** -'_blah_' = thoughts

_**Chapter 13: In Which There are Cliffhangers and Much Yelling**_

In silence, the four teenagers made their way up to Potter's dormitory. Lily, trailing behind the three boys, felt slightly awkward. She couldn't help feeling as though she was intruding, that this was none of her business. Which it wasn't. But since when did she care about stuff like that when it came to Potter?

She blinked suddenly as they came to a halt outside a large door, with the sign "Sixth Year Boys" pinned on it in elegant writing. Well, it had said "Sixth Year Boys" but it had recently been scribbled over and the words "The Marauders" took it's place, in a rather messy scrawl that Lily disdainfully identified as Potter's. She gave a small sniff and entered the room.

She peered around the room interestedly and wished she hadn't almost at once. She found her cheeks blush as she caught sight of a pair of boxers strewn carelessly over the floor and decided to look straight ahead and nowhere else.

Potter sat down on what was clearly his bed. Lily could see his broomstick poking out from the dark cavity beneath it. "So, what did you want to talk about?" he asked, voice tired, but he looked a lot more lively than when she had last seen him.

Remus swallowed, looked at Lily and then the open door behind her. "If you would be so kind a to shut the door, please, Lily?" he asked.

Without a word, Lily nodded and turned around. As she shut the door she thought she caught a flicker of movement from further down the stairs, but she ignored it, shut the door and perched rather delicately on what appeared to be the cleanest of beds. But, considering where she was, she didn't think it was possible.

Remus cleared his throat and took the plunge. "Well, James, what we want to talk to you about is... well..." he trailed off, before Lily suddenly cut in and asked, "What the _hell's_ the matter with you, Potter?"

"Smooth, Lily, real smooth," she heard Remus mutter angrily, whilst Potter cocked an eyebrow at her.

"I'm sorry, Evans, but what does my personal and emotional state have to do with _you_?" he asked, almost coolly. Lily stared at him in shock – as did Remus and Pettigrew. Potter never spoke to Lily like that.

Lily glared at him. '_Here I am, trying to be nice and caring towards the conceited jerk for once in my life and he just throws it back in my face! Git!_' she thought, annoyed. She quickly found that anger which only Potter could ignite quickly bubbling to the surface. '_I'd almost forgotten how much I hate him. Damn him!_' Unfortunately, before she could reply, Remus butted in with a glare at Lily that told her to shut up.

"Look, James, we've all noticed something's up," he said, sitting on a bed that Lily severely hoped wasn't his as it was the one with the boxers. "You've been acting ever so strange ever since the" – he suddenly shot a wary glance at Lily – "the , uh, _transfer students_ came."

Lily frowned at him. "What do you mean by _'transfer students'_?" she demanded bossily, hands on her hips.

Remus flushed a little but calmly replied, "Ron Wesley, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter, of course," he said in a tone that was an attempt at polite confusion. "Who else?"

Unfortunately, Remus was a very bad liar. "Don't give me that!" she snapped, glaring at him. She felt a slight twinge of triumph when Pettigrew, almost unnoticed, gave a terrified squeak. "You are clearly insinuating that they're not really transfer students! So, come on! What are they really?" she persisted, voice laden with sarcasm.

"Er..."

"Aren't we getting a bit off topic, Evans?" asked Potter, in a bored but strangely smug voice. Lily glared at him to find him smiling tightly at her. "Because it doesn't appear as if I am needed for this conversation."

"Oh no, James," said Remus, glaring at him. "You're not going anywhere until we get answers. And don't have a go at Lily, because all she ever did was care about you."

Lily winced and Potter frowned at her. "Could have fooled me," he said mournfully.

"Look, James, can't you just _please_ tell us what's going on?" asked Remus, pleading. He looked very pale and tired and not to mention worried. Lily noticed Potter notice and the afore mentioned teenager gave a sad sigh.

"Fine, whatever," he muttered finally, shrugging his soldiers. He then glanced up at Lily sharply. "But I don't know if Evans should – "

"Oh, shut up, Potter," snapped Lily, folding her arms across her chest decidedly. "Because I'm not going anywhere."

"You know, for someone who supposedly hates my guts you're extremely nosy about my personal life," Potter told her, smiling knowingly.

There was no reply she could think of for that. So Lily said nothing, but she felt her cheeks heating up in embarrassment and anger. '_Stupid all knowing smile – like he knows anything about me! But why _do_ I care?_' she asked herself, confused. '_It's not like I care about him – do I?_' She shuddered. '_Not a nice thought.'_

"Look, in order for you to understand this, Lily," said Potter, watching her intently, "we have to tell you the truth about Harry, Ron and Hermione – "

"So they're not transfer students then?" she asked, still with some underlying sarcasm. 'Professor Dumbledore said they were transfer students. Why would he lie?'

'_Wait, did he just call me Lily?_'

Potter's face twisted into an unidentifiable expression before he gave a wry smile. "No, Lily, they're transfer students, just not from Marchbanks."

Lily frowned. "They're not?"

'_He did call me Lily. Um, why?_'

James laughed. "Oh, come on, Evans," he scoffed. "Is that so hard to believe? I mean, they know this school like the back of their hands. We even got Remus to try and trick them into getting lost in the dungeons but they found their way out perfectly."

Lily turned to Remus incredulously. "You tried to get students lost on _purpose_?" she asked, annoyed. "And I thought you were the responsible one!"

'_And we're back to Evans. I've said it before and I'll say it again, Potter is the most confusing boy I've ever met._'

Potter rolled his eyes. "Way to concentrate on the important things, Evans."

Lily glared at him. "So where are they transferring from then?" she snapped. His aura of egotistical superiority was beginning to bug her.

"Hogwarts," came that smug reply.

'_Did I also add that he's insane?_'

"Hogwarts?" repeated Lily, incredulously and feeling her face flush with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. 'How stupid does he think I look?' "Of course, why didn't I see it before! Of _course_ they're from Hogwarts! Now everything makes sense again. James Potter, you are one crazy s.o.b. you know that, don't you?"

James glared at her. "For your information, Evans, oh pearl amongst swine," he said in a frosty tone, "it happens to be true." He shrugged. "They're just from the future, that's all."

"Puh_lease_, Potter," she snapped, glaring at him. "Would you please be serious, for one time in your life! I must have been nuts to be worried about you! I actually took time off from hating you to be concerned and what do you do? You feed me some cock and bull story and laugh in my face!" She shot to her feet angrily. "Well, I HATE you, James Potter and I hope you drop dead!"

Potter blanched white at this and the cocky look was suddenly wiped off his face. He suddenly looked like a lost, frightened boy and Lily stared. She then gave herself a shake as she realised what she was doing and headed towards the door before a very apologetic looking Remus intercepted her.

"Lily, please don't rush off!" he said, wringing his hands nervously as he shot a look at Potter behind her. "He's telling the truth – they really are from the future. They were involved in some kind of accident that ended up in them being sent backwards through time... or so we can gather."

Lily stared at him. She still felt angry and incredulous enough to storm out anyway, but the look on Remus' face stopped her. As she had said earlier, Remus was a very bad liar and it was unlike him to make something like this up. She sighed.

"Fine, fine," she said and sat down grumpily on her earlier bed.

"I wish you hadn't said that, Evans," said Potter, softly. He sounded... odd. Lily looked up sharply and stared at Potter. He was still staring at the floor, but she could see his eyes were suspiciously wet and exceedingly depressed. His voice had none of the usual conceited arrogance. Quite the contrary, it had shaken uneasily as he spoke. Lily's heart went out to him, despite all her prior anger. "I'd almost forgotten about it."

Remus frowned at Potter. "Forgotten about what?" he asked, gently.

For a moment there was silence and Lily thought he wasn't going to reply. Then: "About my death."

Lily gasped and Pettigrew squeaked. Remus' frown got deeper. "Why? You won't die for many years, James – lots of years."

Potter gave a choked laugh. "But that would be fair," he said, with another strangled laugh. "And why would life be fair to me?"

"Potter, you're not making any sense," Lily pointed out, but with none of the usual anger. In fact, she felt sorry for him. "What makes you think you're going to die?"

Potter looked up and brown eyes caught brilliant emerald. "My life doesn't make sense, Evans," he replied, ignoring her question. "But I suppose I have some consolation in knowing that you and I are fated to spend the rest of our lives together."

All empathy vanished. "What?"

Potter seemed to be coming out of his melancholy state suddenly to grin at her. If she had been a little less angry, she might have noticed that the cheeky grin he gave her was rather fixed and that the eyes were full of heavily repressed pain. "Yeah," he said, lounging back as best he could against one of the four poster poles. "Seems you end up marrying me and Harry is our son." His grin turned to a dreamy, charming smile. "So, you see, my darling petal, derivation of Lilium, genus of approximately 100 species of bulbous perennials, whose showy, fragrant, beautiful flowers are valued throughout the world, it is our destiny to be together. My dearest Evans, what I am trying to say is... will you marry me?"

There was a complete silence in which it seemed the whole world had stopped before...

SMACK!

"I don't _believe_ you, James Potter!" Lily yelled, so angry that she was completely beyond reason. "You – you – YOU COMPLETE BASTARD! YOU COME HERE AND TELL ME ALL THIS IDIOTIC NONSENSE JUST TO TRICK ME INTO GOING OUT WITH YOU! I HATE YOU!"

She dealt him another stinging slap for good measure before storming out of the room. As she wrenched open the door she was knocked backwards by Ron and Hermione who sprawled at her feet, obviously having been listening at the door. She snarled at them, and felt tears come into her eyes at Hermione's betrayal. It was obvious she had been in on the whole thing. "I _hate_ you, Hermione!" she snapped. "I thought you were my friend!"

And she ran away, tears streaming down her face. But she wasn't upset. Oh no. She was much worse than that.

She was pissed.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

Remus watched, still unable to comprehend anything that had taken place. The yells swam around in his brain, but they seemed more like noise than anything else. Had James just _proposed_?

"James, you are such an idiot!" snapped a female voice, but it didn't sound like Lily's. In fact, as he turned his gaze down to the floor, he caught sight of Hermione and Ron lying sprawled on the floor where they had fallen in, caught eaves dropping. Hermione was glaring at James almost as forcefully as Lily just had. "You're never going to win her over if you act like such a complete prat!" She had gotten to her feet and looked so ready to deal him another slap that Remus hurriedly jumped up and restrained her. Not that she even noticed. She was far too busy glaring at James. "Can't you just stop being you for one teensy second and DO SOMETHING PRODUCTIVE!"

James glared right back at her. "Oh, you're a fine one to talk about being useful!" he snapped, before putting on a simpering wail that was actually very close to Hermione's real voice. He wasn't the only one to think so, as he saw Ron snigger quietly. "I give up! I resign myself to my fate and all because this stupid book shows me that there is no hope left in the world!"

Hermione, who glared at him even more forcefully – Remus could see Peter shaking a little – had just opened her mouth to retort before he hurriedly cut in. "Look, sorry to interrupt, but what the _hell_ are you talking about?"

He felt his cheeks flush slightly as everyone turned to stare a tad incredulously at him, but he stood his ground. It wasn't like him to loose his perpetual state of calm, but with the confusing conversations and endless yelling matches, he was surprised he hadn't lost it sooner.

Turning his attention to Ron, who was the only one whom seemed able to answer any question without exploding, he asked, "Now, Ron, could you please explain just what is going on?" As the red head hesitated he added, "We're not blind, you know. We just want to know – I think we have a right to – and we want to help. So spill."

Ron sighed and sat down on his bed wearily. "Fine," he said and began to explain, although Ron seemed to be in a bit of a dilemma starting and cleared his throat several times before plunging in. "James and Sirius die."

Remus choked. "_What_?" he spat out horrified. Ron ignored him

"James dies in about, oh, I don't know, four or five years protecting Harry from Voldemort and Sirius died in the summer, once more protecting Harry from Voldemort. Well, his death eaters in any case. Harry sees Sirius' death as all his fault and has been really depressed, basically. He's just gotten worse ever since we arrived back here."

"He seems really happy to me," said Peter and Remus agreed, thinking back to the sheer delight on Harry's face during last night's prank.

"That's the problem," said Hermione, speaking up sadly. "He's ignoring Sirius' death by telling himself that Sirius didn't die. Since James died when he was so small Sirius has been the only father figure he's ever had." She looked up from the floor to stare at Remus. He hurriedly let her go when he realised he had not released her yet and she looked straight into his eyes. "He can't cope." She sat down next to Ron. Both were looking extremely sad.

"He's not had the best life," continued Ron, also staring fixedly at the floor. "He's always felt like he has to bear the whole weight of the world on his shoulders and I suppose here he doesn't have to. He can ignore everything that happened in his life and pretend that people that died never did."

"But sooner or later, everything's going to come around again and he's just going to have to watch it all happen over again," pointed out Remus, confused and still a little shocked.

"We know that and we think he does too," said Hermione, leaning her head on Ron's shoulders who still managed to look extremely awkward and self-conscious. "But he's just putting so much effort into forgetting and into the now that he doesn't really seem able to take it in."

"He must have had a really terrible life for him to prefer living through the sidelines for a few years extra time with his family and ten times the amount of pain," said Peter sadly and Remus looked at him in surprise. It wasn't like Peter to be so insightful. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ron and Hermione look up sharply at Peter too, though there expressions were much darker than Remus'. He had noticed that all three time travelers seemed to be uncomfortable around Peter, Harry most of all, though he tried to hide it more than the other two.

"We don't think that it's just him, though," said Hermione, perking up a little. "We think some of it is due to that monster that attacked Harry last night – "

"Attacked Sirius, you mean," corrected Remus.

But Hermione shook her head. "Last night, I was thinking about it," she said, eyes lighting up in earnest. I think 'Malfoy' is – "

"Malfoy?" asked Remus in confusion. "Didn't he leave a couple of years ago?"

Hermione blushed. "Er, we sort of named that monster after Draco Malfoy, one of our less... pleasant acquaintances," she explained before rushing onwards. "Any way, it's attacks always seem to focus on Harry. The first one was in the hospital wing where Harry was all alone. That was the day after the Quidditch trials. And then last night it attacked Sirius, true, but Harry was the one who ended up bleeding and in pain."

"But _why_, Hermione? Why would it just randomly turn up and try to attack Harry?" asked Ron. This seemed to be a bit of a sore point with them.

"I've told you, Ron, I don't know why!" cried Hermione, exasperated, taking her head off his shoulder to glare at him. "Maybe Voldemort sent us back here and sent 'Malfoy' to finish him off. Then he wouldn't have to bother."

Remus frowned at the pair. That was the third time they had mentioned Voldemort being after Harry. But why would the Dark Lord concern himself with a mere boy? He opened his mouth to ask, but Ron and Hermione were in full flow and Ron was already halfway through a retort.

"... us along, too, Hermione?" he was pointing out. "Because if there's anyone who's going to help Harry out of it it's us."

"I said _maybe_ Ron!" snapped Hermione. "Maybe we got dragged through by accident – "

"That could be true, but we didn't even come through at the same time! You came first on your own!"

"Well, I fail to see _you_ coming up with any better ideas."

"Prongs," said Remus suddenly, raising his voice to be heard above the pointless argument. "I look with rue on the day that you and Lily ever get married."

James shot an indignant look at him. "And why is that?" he asked, waspishly.

Remus jerked his head towards the bickering Ron and Hermione. "Because you two will be like _them_, all day long."

The afore mentioned couple immediately stopped talking and flushed with embarrassment.

James took control now. "Look, I found out about Sirius' death that time I was spying on them under the invisibility cloak," he told Remus and Peter. He ignored Hermione's disapproving sniff and consequent exclamation of "You were _spying_ on us?" and carried on. "I noticed that Harry was really depressed and offered to help them help him work through it." He grimaced. "We got our wands crossed about certain things and, anyway, I found out that I died as well, long before Sirius. I just gave up, really, but last night..."

He swallowed, finding it hard to talk about his feelings. He didn't really open up too much to any one on this matter, excepting occasionally his parents and Ron and Hermione last night. But those two veritable strangers had been easier to talk to than two of his best friends. They had already known and sort of expected him to be a parent. Remus and Peter only saw him as their friend and fellow mischief-maker.

"When 'Malfoy' attacked Sirius last night I got lost in one of Harry's memories and what I felt..." He shuddered. "It was horrible. I just, I have to help him." He turned big pleading eyes on Remus and Peter. "Please understand."

To his immense shock, Moony gave him a large smile. "Knew you hard a heart in there somewhere, James," he told the astonished stag animagus. "You try to hide it, but I know it's there." He laughed at James' expression. "For Merlin's sake, James, we're not going to condemn you just because you have fatherly feelings. In fact, quite the opposite, I'm going to praise you. Well done, James."

James, feeling a bit dazed looked over to Peter, who was looking a bit pale. Wormtail shot him a smile. "Of course we'll help you, James," he said, voice sounding much stronger than he looked. "Did you even have to ask?"

James grinned suddenly, feeling much happier than he had for days. It was hard to understand why he'd been so worried, but he knew why he had been. James had always worn the appearance of a player. Always had to be the uncaring, funny leader who didn't let sentimental bunnies get in his way. That's why he probably had had such trouble with Evans. He did, after all, feel as though he had to maintain his image. And now, he saw, he sort of kept it as a barrier or a shield to stop people getting to know the real him. He even did that to an extent with his friends, especially with Sirius who was a player to the heart. Which was ironic because Sirius was his best friend. But he had held that image for so long that it was hard to let any feelings through. But Remus and Peter accepted that – had accepted him. He was glad he had friends to depend upon.

Remus sat down on his bed and looked expectantly between the two time travellers and James who was grinning. "So," he prompted, "what can we do to help?"

Hermione and Ron exchanged looks. "Well, we found this book in the library that seems to spell that there's no chance of getting back, but me and James don't stock so much faith in books," said Ron, grinning at the glaring Hermione. "Problem is that we're banned. So, maybe you could – "

"They're banned too, Ron," Hermione pointed out.

Remus froze in horror. "What?" he cried. 'I don't remember this!' "When – how - why?"

James looked a little guilty. "It's my fault," he replied, staring apologetically at Remus. "I just found out I'd died and was making a lot of noise and Madam Pince lost it. Came over and yelled at us to get out, banned me, Ron, Hermione and – I quote – "the rest of my little gang, too." Sorry, mate."

Remus hurriedly assured him that there was no need to apologise – he could quite understand how much yelling James would do if he just found out he'd died and how annoyed Madam Pince would be. She had been threatening to ban James and Sirius ever since they had let loose some book worms in the library at the end of last term. In fact, Remus was surprised she hadn't banned them earlier. He just wished that Madam Pince had not banned him too.

Ron shrugged. "Well, that's fine," he said. Before Hermione could retort on how it was not fine, Ron added, "We'll just take the invisibility cloaks and sneak in tonight."

"Cloaks?" questioned Remus, even as James dived into his trunk to search for his.

"Well, I suppose that, technically speaking, it's only one cloak," responded Hermione, eyes lighting up. "After all, Harry's cloak was James' at one point and – "

"Oh no," groaned James, holding a piece of paper.

"What is it?" asked Peter, confused. James simply held out the piece of paper to Remus who was nearest. He read aloud.

"Prongs. Have borrowed your invisibility cloak for the day. Will return it tomorrow. Thanks. Padfoot." Remus raised an eyebrow. "What does Sirius want an invisibility cloak for?"

"Especially when they already have Harry's?" added Ron, who had immediately began searching Harry's chest of drawers – the long ago promised trip to Diagon Alley for school supplies had yet to be fulfilled, resulting in borrowed school robes and other assorted clothes. "His is gone, too."

"Great."

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

The small village of Hogsmeade tended to be very quiet at night. Being an entirely wizarding settlement it was not plagued by the sounds of booming nightclubs, nor of busy business men in fast cars zooming along too fast down small roads. Though it did get the occasional drunk staggering out of the only two places where there seemed to be some life – the popular establishment "The Three Broomsticks" and the more seedy "Hogs Head".

It was out of the latter, rather than the former, the Sirius and Harry stumbled laughing over some joke or other at midnight. Although they much preferred the former, Madam Rosmerta, the young landlady, was bound to tell Dumbledore they were there, whilst the barman of the Hogs Head didn't care who or even what you were as long as you had money to spend.

Harry had, at first, been a little dubious about sneaking into Hogsmeade, his usual paranoia cutting in, especially one cutting remark made by Lupin in his third year – "Your parents gave their lives to keep you alive, Harry. A poor way to repay them – gambling their sacrifice for a bag of magic tricks." '_But that,_' Harry had reflected angrily, _'was a completely different situation. Mainly that my parents aren't dead and that no maniac is trying to kill me this time._' He hastily shook away lingering thoughts of 'Malfoy'. '_And besides, my father does this sort of thing all the time. As did _you_. So I, for once in my life, am going to enjoy myself._'

Harry had only had a few rounds of butterbeer – which he drunk straight from the bottle after vigorously cleaning it with a spell. He remembered, with a faint shudder of disgust, the time when he had come in here to organise the DA and there was that same old bar tender with that filthy rag.

Sirius had mainly butterbeer, although he did have two shots of firewhiskey that left him rather pink eyed for a couple of minutes after. It turned out that Sirius and James – for whom everyone mistook Harry – were regulars here, enough so that they were given some privacy and not beaten to a pulp by several large hags that passed their table. Harry had to admit that the place was a lot more full at night than it was during the day. It was hard to even hear Sirius over all the noise and bustle that was taking place.

After a couple of hours they had unanimously decided to head back to the castle, invisibility cloaks tucked carefully under their school robes. Harry, who had found the pub slightly stuffy, revelled in the fresh air as they walked along the well trodden path to Hogwarts castle. There was no point in putting on the invisibility cloaks yet, as there would be no one patrolling outside on the grounds.

"Harry?" asked Sirius suddenly. They were in the main street, by Honeydukes and Gladrags. It seemed eerily quiet and Harry had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, various scenes from his life flashing before his eyes – sitting alone in Magnolia Crescent and seeing a dog in the shadows, the blocking out of the stars and Dementors gliding, coming towards him, walking on beaten grass and hearing a growl...

Harry shook himself. '_Don't be such a wimp, Potter._' "Yeah?" he asked, wrapping his arms around himself. For a September night it seemed extremely cold.

"I know you're from the future."

At that, Harry whipped around in shock. "What?" he exclaimed, horrified, before realising that he already knew that. "Oh, yes, I know you know. I overheard you at the Quidditch try outs."

Sirius seemed a little put out by this. "Oh," he said, pouting. Then he livened up again, "Well, I also know that Prongs is you dad, Lily's your mum and that I'm your favourite godfather."

Harry grinned at him. "You're my only Godfather, you nitwit," he said, not too shocked over that bit. He and Ron – even Hermione in some places – hadn't been too careful over what they said.

"Hey!" said Sirius, glaring at him. "Now, look, kid – "

"Kid?" repeated Harry, indignantly. "I'll have you know that we are, at the moment, the same age!"

Sirius waved a hand at him. "Whatever," he dismissed. "What am I like in the future – am I famous? I am I rich? Do I have multiple wives?"

Harry started laughing – laughter that was abruptly cut off.

With a ferocious snarl, 'Malfoy' leaped out of seemingly nowhere and landed heavily on Sirius. Sirius had only time for a short yell of pain before he was out cold – or he assumed that Sirius was only unconscious, praying that it was not worse than that – that Sirius was... dead. Again.

Dragging his thoughts away from Sirius, Harry found himself facing 'Malfoy' who was rapidly gaining in height, moving on from the large dog size he had been on attacking Sirius to the size of a large elephant. Harry found his mind shrieking with memories – Sirius, falling again and again into the black veil over and over, but now there was the last, terrified yells of his parents as they, too, suffered to Voldemort's wrath. And Cedric, looking around, "Kill the spare" echoing around and around in his mind. With tears streaming out of his eyes at the helplessness and the surge of guilt and grief, Harry tried blocking them out. But there were so many...

"Potter..."

Harry looked up, in astonishment, horror overriding even the mental screams and images placed their by 'Malfoy's' presence. For the misshapen and many fanged mouth was mouthing, to form one sound that it's mouth was never meant for.

"Potter..."

His name.

It was calling him into death, to give up, to surrender – to see them again. He'd see his mum and dad, Sirius and the rest of his family that he had never known. He would be free from death by death. No one else would die because of him. Because of his stupid decisions.

Because that is what it all came down to.

Choice.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

It was coming close to midnight before Ron, Hermione, James, Remus and Peter felt safe enough to attempt a visit to the library. They had waited up for ages for Sirius and Harry to arrive, but they didn't come. Hermione found herself biting her fingernails frantically as they halted in a secret passageway whilst Peter scouted ahead to see if the coast was clear. But her thoughts weren't on her current illegal activity. They were on Harry.

"I don't know. Seems like they've gone to Hogsmeade in which case they won't be back for hours," James had said, shrugging his shoulders as the curfew came and went.

"What do you mean, they've just 'gone to Hogsmeade'?" Hermione had hissed back. "Are you _crazy_ – what if they get attacked? What if Voldemort turns up again? What if – "

"Relax, 'Mione!" said James, obviously surprised at what he saw as this extremist attitude towards rule breaking. "It's just a little night time excursion. I've done it loads of times."

"Then it's no wonder Harry is so good at breaking the school rules!" she snapped, worried for Harry. "Seriously James, what if Malfoy attacks again? Or if there's a death eater raid? Harry would get killed."

James contemplated that for a second. "You're right," he conceded eventually. "But, then again, there's nothing we can do about it. Without the invisibility cloaks we'd get caught before we took one step."

"That's soo reassuring, James, when we're about to go on an equally illegal night time excursion without the invisibility cloaks ourselves," Remus had pointed out and James had promptly shut up.

Peter, in his rat form, soon scurried back and gave two little squeaks that they had decided would designate all clear and the all crept along the moonlight passageway as quietly as they could. They were heading for the library entrance that they had been chucked out of yesterday for three reasons; a) it was the closest to Gryffindor Tower, b) it was both less used and less known, thereby attracting less attention from the teacher patrols, c) it had lots of recesses in which to hide.

"We're here," hissed James suddenly and all five stopped to observe the old door of the library entrance. There was a faint pop as Peter transformed back into a human once more.

"Now what?" he asked, slightly breathless.

James rolled his eyes. "Now we open it, Wormtail, do use your brains!" Peter blushed and Hermione was briefly overcome with a strange sensation – feeling sorry for Peter. It was gone as quickly as it had come, but she couldn't help wondering if James' and Sirius' attitude towards the rat animagus had been one of the factors that pointed him towards Voldemort. They clearly saw him as a brother... but then, brothers aren't always nice to one another. James surveyed the door one more time before he reached for the handle. "I bet it squeaks," he muttered and pulled the door open. Without a single squeak.

James grinned and waved Hermione forwards. "Ladies first," he grinned.

Hermione, feeling much better now she had access to the library once more, moved forward quickly. It wasn't quite running, but it was close. She had gotten one joyful step over the door frame when...

WHAM!

She was suddenly hit with an intense force, something that catapulted her backwards like a projectile from a catapult, or like an elastic band. She shot backwards, her surroundings in a blur, before her back hit something hard and cold and she toppled to the ground with a crash, hitting her head hard on the dusty floor.

"Hermione!" she heard someone exclaim and felt a rush of air play at her hair. Someone gently twisted her into a sitting position and she suddenly found three worried faces staring at her. None of them were red heads so she concluded that the person whose lap she was half in was Ron's. It was then that she realised that she was having some problem seeing.

"Her eyes look a little unfocused," said a voice that was clearly Remus' and she had an impression of a very pale blob peering at her. "She might have concussion – she did hit her head very hard."

"So, do we have to take her Madam Pomfrey?" asked a rather wimpy sound of voice.

"Yes, Peter," said another voice, this one clearly in the tone of someone that was rolling their eyes. James then.

"No, we don't," said Ron suddenly. She knew it was Ron only because he was the only one who had not spoken yet. '_I don't think that I'm feeling very well,_' she decided suddenly and tried to blink the various coloured blobs into focus. "Me, Harry and Hermione took an advanced medi course in the summer holidays as we always seem to be injuring ourselves somehow and what with Voldemort and all... Well, we got some qualifications and were even allowed to do some practical bits. One of which was how to get rid of concussion." He shifted a little under her and Hermione felt a thin stick lightly resting against her head. She didn't know what it was and was distracted by a sudden ringing in her ears and a feeling of nausea. She didn't hear another word of what Ron said, concentrating on keeping the contents of her stomach in her stomach.

Just when she thought she was going to throw up her head got given a kind of whoosh and the ringing instantly died down. And she could see again. Unfortunately, she was part way to being sick already and even a magic wand can't stop someone being sick if they're halfway there. So she ended up ejecting what ever she had eaten the past few hours onto – she was secretly pleased to see – onto Peter, who gave a horrified yelp. It did not help matters when Ron and James burst out laughing. Hermione still managed to blush – it wasn't nice having people watch you puke your brains out. "Sorry," she mumbled to Peter. Remus – whose face suggested he wanted to laugh but wasn't that mean – waved his wand and whispered, "_Scourgify_!" Instantly the vomit vanished and Peter gave Moony a grateful grin. But Hermione noticed, amused, that he kept quite far away from her after that.

"Are you okay, Hermione?" asked Ron, peering round over her shoulder.

She nodded, not trusting her breath at this moment, and, somewhat awkwardly, idled her way out of Ron's lap to lean against the wall. "Yeah, thanks to you," she added, grinning at Ron, who blushed. "I just need to rest a bit, I think."

James and Ron nodded and the boys all turned to face the library door, which was still innocently wide open. Hermione glared at it.

"Well, it seems that banning comes with a spell," said Remus, stating the obvious.

"Yes, thank you for that, Remus, I'd _never_ have noticed otherwise," drawled James, sarcasm dripping from his every tone. "It's not that complicated a spell to do – rather similar to the one I believe Sirius and Harry used on the girls tower in the Slytherin dormitories for their prank yesterday."

Ron looked at him suspiciously. "How do you know that?" he asked James. "You and I weren't there for that part."

James shrugged. "Elementary, my dear Watson," he responded and Hermione snorted from where she sat. "I am sure that you are well aware of the jinx on the girl's dormitories that prevents any male from entering them and, as such, Harry and Sirius could never have gotten a hold of any Slytherin girls robes to turn pink, in which case either the Slytherin girls all chose to wear their pink robes from the "_Love is all you need_" prank" – Hermione flamed a brilliant red and squirmed in remembered embarrassment – "which is highly unlikely, or they got caught with a colour charm on the way out of the tower. In which case, there would be nothing to stop them from going upstairs to change into some fittingly black robes and... I don't know… fly out a window or something. But as they all turned up suitably pink for tea I am hazarding a guess that Sirius and Harry put a one way rebound spell on the tower that allowed the girls to come out of their dormitories, but not go back in."

Ron stared at him, open mouthed. "How did you figure that out?" he asked, in astonishment.

James gave him a mischievous grin whilst Remus answered. "He and Sirius had a sort of prank war in fourth year," he explained, leaning against a wall casually. "The idea was to guess how the other one did it – what spells and so forth. Both of them are experts at spell detection now."

"Ah."

Hermione felt very tired and upset after a while. Now it really seemed as though they would never get back to their own time. Their only book was hopeless and they couldn't even sneak into the library illegally at night. Harry didn't seem to want to know them suddenly and now playing practical jokes and consequently breaking school rules seemed to be the only way that one could become a reasonable spell detector, something she had been trying to achieve for the last three years, ever since she read about it in some miscellaneous book somewhere.

Life really wasn't fair.

She slid her hands out wards and then behind her, ignoring the dust that was making her hands slightly sticky, trying to get more comfortable, when her fingers hit something. Frowning, she reached back for it. It was tucked in a tiny niche and she brought it forward to stare at it.

It was a piece of paper.

'_It's more than just a piece of paper!_' Hermione thought excitedly, as she lit her wand to peer at it closer. 'It's _a page from that book! One that we missed! This could be our answer!_' But that hope faded quickly as she took in the title: 'Time'. '_Bother! It must be just a prelude._' She let her eyes skim over the carefully printed letters, almost not taken them in at all.

Then she froze.

Her eyes went back to the top and read once more, this time taking in every word.

And again.

And again.

'_Shit_.'

"Holy Merlin! We've got to find Harry!"

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

Love,

Hannanora-Potter

~x~x~x~


	14. In which everyones does a lot of running

**Title:** Time is a Healer

**Summary:** Harry, Ron and Hermione are suddenly and inexplicably thrown into the Marauders' sixth year at Hogwarts. Delighted with this chance to meet his parents and reunite with the recently deceased Sirius, Harry soon starts to cut his ties for the future, leaving Ron and Hermione seriously worried. And what's the monster that's starting to stalk Harry?

**Timeline and Spoilers:** Books 1 through 5, at the beginning of Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts (very beginning)

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and any related characters and setting are all the property of J.K. Rowling and not me.

**Extra:** '_blah_' = thoughts

_**Chapter 14 – In Which Everyone Does A Lot Of Running:**_

James, Ron, Remus and Peter all turned to stare at Hermione. "What?" asked Ron, confused. "Why? What's wrong?"

But Hermione wasn't listening. "How could I have been so stupid! It was right there in front of me the entire time!"

"Hermione?" asked Ron.

Hermione looked up at him, eyes fearful. "It was Time, Ron," she explained, scrabbling to her feet. "It wasn't a time turner or a spell! It was _Time himself_!"

Ron stared at her, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. It sounded crazy, but… "Come off it, Hermione," he scoffed doubtfully. "Time's just a concept, a… a _thing_, it's not a person… is it?"

Hermione glared at him. "Does it matter? All that matters is that this explains totally what's going on and – more importantly – what's going to happen to Harry if we don't find him _now_!"

"What's going to happen to Harry?" asked James suddenly, eyes flashing in anger.

"Look, we're just wasting time!" Hermione snapped, wringing her hands. "Let's just get back to Gryffindor Tower and I'll explain on the way."

They set off at a run, not tearing off madly, but fast enough that Hermione felt they were getting somewhere. If something happened to Harry before they got to him… she swallowed uneasily.

"Like I said, we were wrong about what sent us here, but right about the why – or, at least, sort of," she started to explain, weaving through the Hogwart's corridors.

"Are you planning on making sense any time today, Hermione?" asked Ron, annoyed.

It was a mark of how panicked Hermione was that she didn't even glare at him. She just carried on. "That wizard in the corridor, I'm pretty sure that was Time. I remember reading in some book ages ago that in the early 11th century many witches and wizards believed that some of the ancient Gods and Goddesses weren't myths. That they actually existed on a different plane to us and were immortal. They weren't omniscient and omnipotent – "

"Come again?" asked Peter and Ron, simultaneously.

"All powerful and all knowing," Remus supplied, watching Hermione as much as possible without crashing into a wall or tripping over a suit of armour. He looked extremely thoughtful. So did James. "Carry on, Hermione."

"Thanks, Remus," gasped Hermione, jumping onto a staircase that was just settling into place. "These witches and wizards believed that these Gods and Goddesses weren't all powerful like the Christian One God, but were lesser beings, sort of like demi-Gods, with immortality and greater magical powers than humans and other magical beings on Earth. A bit like Phoenixes in that sense. I believe that Time is one of these."

"But how is Time a _lesser_ God, Hermione?" asked James, sweat trickling down his forehead. It was a cold October night, but they were so far away from Gryffindor Tower and Hogwarts was such as a riddle of tunnels and staircases that he was willing to bet even the ghosts would have worked up a sweat running around it. "How can that be? I mean, Time is essential. It's what holds the world together." Remus nodded his head in agreement.

But Hermione was shaking hers. "No, that's not true – oh no!" She cut herself off, coming to a complete halt and grabbing Ron and James to stop them going any further. Remus grabbed Peter, though he looked at Hermione in confusion. "Peeves," Hermione mouthed and jerked her head at a tapestry nearby. It hid a semi-secret passageway that went nowhere near where they were trying to go but that at least led them out of the poltergeist's way.

Tiptoeing quietly along a gloomy, dark passageway was extremely hard when they had adrenaline pumping round their veins and especially hard for Hermione, who was the only one who knew what was at stake here. With the absence of explaining to the others what was going on, her mind was left to imagine what could be happening to Harry – '_and what _is_ going to happen to him if he doesn't – _'

"Hermione? We should be out of range now," Remus said, thankfully halting her thoughts. She started running again, wincing at the protest from her already trembling muscles. She hoped they weren't going to give up on her. She knew she had a lot more running to do. '_I need to start running in the morning. When you're Harry's friend, you know you're going to need it._'

"As I was saying," she continued, after racking her brains for where she left off, "Time is everywhere, but it's relative."

"Um… care to explain that, Hermione?" asked Ron, confused. "You know, for us mere mortals?"

"Well, if you were sat on a rocket…er…. A broom that went at extremely fast speeds," she amended, not really sure whether Ron – or Peter, James and Remus for that matter – would know what a rocket was, "and I mean _really_ fast, and you had a clock on your broom then that clock would go more slowly than for someone with a clock who wasn't sitting on the broom. Time would be the same for you as normal – you wouldn't feel yourself going in slow motion or anything, but your clock would be going slower nonetheless."

There was a rather long pause after her statement before…

"Huh?"

'_Ok, time to try another track._' "Look, space time is directly linked with energy and matter and… well, _space_," Hermione explained, trying to put in a simpler form. "Space didn't always exist. Please tell me you've at least heard of the theory of the Big Bang?"

She got three blank stares, but a thoughtful frown from Remus. "That's the theory that the Universe started in a… well, a big bang and that space started expanding – and still is today," he supplied, still frowning. "But I still don't see what that has to do with what we're talking about."

Hermione tried not to scream in exasperation. They were still wasting time! "What I'm trying to say is that when the Universe was created it was created alongside Time," she pointed out, almost tripping over a tattered looking rug that was sticking up. "In other words, that someone – or something – had to create Time in order for it to exist now. It wasn't here first and therefore it cannot be _the_ God, for lack of a better word. And Time itself can be manipulated by simple astronomical phenomenem, such as black holes, which bend and slow down Time because of their massive gravitational pull."

She had lost them again. She ended up by just growling and snapping, "Just take my word for it, okay?" The others all nodded quickly, all realising that the technical details were not what was important right now. They were all breathing heavily now, and their pace was much slower. Hermione just accepted it, no matter how much she wanted to push it. "Anyway, this piece of paper is like the closing chapter for that big book we stole form the Library. I'll just read it to you, shall I?"

The gradually came to a halt. As much as she didn't like the wasted time, Hermione realised it was necessary. They all had to understand in order to help Harry. Holding the tatty, yellowing paper out in front of her, Hermione read;

_**Time:**_

_Whilst covering all the accepted methods of Time travel, there is still one last chapter to this book: the subject of Time himself._

_It has been hypothesised in the early 11__th__ Century AD that Time is not a concept or a dimension, as muggle scientists have come to believe in the latter few decades of recent history, but a demi-God, with powers over the individuals that exist in time. Namely, this includes everyone on the Earth and in the Universe._

_Time, however, is a term that simply is the best we humans can come up with to describe this God figure. Time is concerned with the future, about the preservation of life and all that is yet to happen. The past is gone and done and cannot be changed, which is why he is perceived as a demi-God, rather than the true God that created everything in the Universe – for that would mean Time is subjugated to his own rules and cannot, really, interfere. This was the theory of the witches and wizards of the 11__th__ Century which has, in recent years, been further proven by muggle scientists in the last few decades (the 20__th__ Century). This shows that the world and Universe was created with a Big Bang at the same time that time was created. In other words, time and space was created simultaneously. And if Time was the true God, Time would be older than the Universe._

_Time's responsibilities show that the Past is fixed and cannot be changed. If someone does time travel into the past it will make no difference because it has already happened and the consequences are not new, but have already been played out. However, Time has been in a constant battle, ever since the first tinniest fraction of a second has passed, with his brother Past._

_Past is depicted as a hairless black creature with red glowing eyes that will appear sometimes to time travellers who have travelled backwards into the past. Past's real – and only – powers lie in these people as he cannot influence any changes in the domain he holds rule over as all the important decisions and consequences have been played out by his brother, Time (who, because of their domains, some witches and wizards have taken to calling Future, but because 'Time's' domain also includes the present it is easier to call him Time.). But he does hold power over those sent back into the past, especially if their thoughts dwell on the past – for example, grieving a lost one and so forth. Past has the ability to force a person to relieve the memories that they dwell on, rather like a dementor can cause someone to relive bad memories if they have ones bad enough. If they can force the person deep enough into the past – in thought, heart and body – then they become trapped there and are destroyed. This throws Time into chaos and anarchy, especially if it is one that Time has sent back himself__*__. It is easier to describe just how this is by likening it to a chess game. Imagine you a playing a game and, suddenly, one of your pieces disappears for no reason. It might not do much damage to the game as a whole, but it could also completely swing the game the other way, especially if it is a pivotal piece, such as the Queen. And what happens if the piece that disappears is the King, but you cannot stop that game? It would be impossible for the other person to win, because in order to win a game of chess you need to checkmate the King. Thus, there is chaos._

_Although acknowledged to be mortal enemies, Time cannot destroy Past, for if he did then he would cease to exist, for even for the smallest, tinniest nano of a second to pass there will be the creation of Past. However, technically speaking, Past can destroy Time for he needs only the present and the future is of no consequence to him. With Time gone, Past holds enough power in the present to freeze it and hold it there indefinitely, able to make everyone relieve the past over and over again. Hence, any battles that the two hold are always won by Past, but he never destroys Time, for as long as Time lives, his domain will increase and the Past is always greedy for more – hence the difficulty and number of post syndromes, whether it be from stress, pregnancies, trauma, bereavement and so on._

_As to Time's place in this book? As well as underpinning everything this book is about, Time has the power to send people back to the Past, without the aid of any of the magical devices and/or spells we have seen earlier in this book – in other words, by pure will alone. Accounts of this are very sketchy and rare. As a lot of them were from the witches and wizards who first stumbled across this concept in the 11__th__ century (a concept that was laughed at and almost promptly forgot by the majority of the magical community) they were dismissed. Time, it is believed, cannot accurately predict the future – there are too many random factors (a branch of muggle science called Quantum Mechanics deals directly with this unpredictability of life and time) – but he can sense who will be the important players and when he feels that the one of the players is going to die before the event that will decide the fate of the future he will send them back into the past to protect them. This comes with a certain amount of risk, as already discussed above. They are often given a sign of how long they will have to stay in the past, although they will not realise what it signifies. They are sent into the past by Time and only Time, therefore, can bring them forward. And only when they are ready._

_This method of time travel is completely different to all the other methods discussed in this book and is never up to the time traveller, but the decision of Time and the part they are to play in the future. It is unpredictable, dangerous and not guaranteed to result in a return trip and is the random x-factor of temporal journeys._

_The End_

"The end?" asked Ron, after a slight seconds pause. "But what was the rush about, 'Mione?"

Hermione glared at him. "That's because I haven't finished yet. Listen:"

_* those that Time has sent back will invariably come up against Past in his physical form. The beast attacks not the body, but the mind of the traveller, and if the traveller is troubled by the death of a loved one, it will attack those that the traveller has lost. I the traveller does not begin to accept this death, he will fall closer to Past. Past will appear to them four times after which it will be too late to fight off Past again and the traveller is doomed to remain under the grasp of Past where he will invariably be destroyed._

"Destroyed?" James whispered, swallowing uncomfortably and feeling dread rising in his chest.

Hermione nodded uncomfortably, feeling tears well in her eyes. Harry had had such a bad life. She could understand why he wanted to stay where he was loved and wanted and unrecognised. But he had to move on, otherwise he would be joining his parents and Sirius like he wanted – but in death, not life.

Remus spoke up then. "Harry's a King, isn't he? Or, at least a Queen."

At first Hermione didn't know what Remus was talking about and then she remembered the chess analogy. She just nodded. Why else would Time send him back?

"Hermione, you were right," said Ron suddenly, looking up from where he'd been staring at the floor, deep in thought.

Hermione looked surprised. "I was?" she asked, before she could stop herself. "About what?"

"We've got to find Harry!"

Ron's words were like a bucket of cold water. The realisation of what was going on hit them all at once and the jerked into action, dashing the final few corridors towards the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"You said he was in Hogsmeade?" asked Hermione, for the second time ignoring the protest by her legs.

"Yes, but they could be back by now – they could be anywhere in Hogwarts or Hogsmeade – we might never find them!" James cried, panicking. Part of it was for Harry, but part of it was for Sirius. '_That book said that Past got it's power over Harry by attacking those he's lost – that means Sirius._'

"What about the Map?" gasped Ron, turning to stare at him.

"How do you know about the Map?" asked Peter, forgetting just exactly who they were for a moment.

"Harry's got it," Ron replied, answering Peter's question because he could see it in James' face too. "I don't know whether he's taken it with him, though."

"Ours was confiscated," James said gloomily, before grinning as best he could in the current situation. "We don't have it any more, though it's encouraging to know we'll get it back some day."

Ron didn't have the heart to correct him.

As they skidded to a stop in front of her, the Fat Lady stared at them in total astonishment, mouth hanging open at the sight of them all. Ron thought it would have looked quite comical if he didn't feel like he was going to be sick. She was stuttering, but they didn't have time for her to get over her surprise. "Cinderella!" James gasped, for once not feeling a total idiot as he said it.

The portrait swung open and they all surged inside, ignoring the Fat Lady's continued spluttering. James turned to the others, "I'll go get your map then and – "

"Um, James?"

They all turned to the sound of the voice and all of them – even James – groaned as one. For, standing there, was the last person they wanted to see last now.

It was Lily.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

'_It's okay. I can do this. It's only James, after all.'_

'_Yeah, and that's what makes it so hard.'_

Lily groaned to herself and nervously smoothed down the black trousers she was wearing. It was very late now and no one was left in the Common Room. The fire was still crackling in the corner, but it was looking quite dull now. '_Damn you, Potter,_' she thought rebelliously. '_You can't even make a simple apology seem… well, simple!_' She had gone to bed early under the pretence of a headache, but hadn't slept a wink. Instead, she had tossed and turned all night, thinking about what James had said to her and, more importantly, what he had looked like when he said it.

"_Well, I HATE you, James Potter and I hope you drop dead!"_

Lily cringed to herself. As much as she often thought James behaved terribly towards others she had behaved just as bad towards him, if not worse. Even though she was worried about him – '_and why _is _that, again?_' – she had revelled in being able to torment James, give him a piece of his own medicine. And that made her just as bad as James. '_Well, maybe not as bad as James, I mean, no one can ever be that mean apart from possibly Black._'

And that was her whole problem there. She was as arrogant towards James as he was to everyone else. She thought she was better than him.

_Potter gave a choked laugh. "But that would be fair," he said, with another strangled laugh. "And why would life be fair to me?"_

She sighed and tossed over in her bed again, trying to blink away the image of his face as he said that. '_He looks as though he really means it. As though he really believes he's going to die. But he can't honestly believe that Hermione, Ron and Harry are from the future… can he?_'

She thought about the supposed time travellers. Hermione had never needed showing around the school. When Lily was a first year it had taken her – and all the other first years – at least a month to say they could comfortably find their way around the school to the important parts. But she had been further lost by new classrooms in her third year when she had taken up the electives. And she still didn't know her way around some of the more obscure parts of the school. She didn't know where the kitchens were, or how to get into the attics – even if they had attics. The only people who she reckoned could really find their way around the entire castle were Potter and his damned friends. But Hermione had never really needed Lily's help. Sure she was older than a first year but still…

So, as much as she hated to admit it, James was right about them being suspicious. And the incident with that… _thing_. That didn't happen to just any one. Could he be right? But then, they surely wouldn't have told him that he dies in the future would they? They could _not_ be that cruel.

Still Lily lay there, tossing and turning, James' voice and her own echoing round and round in her head.

"_Oh, shut up, Potter," snapped Lily, folding her arms across her chest decidedly. "Because I'm not going anywhere."_

"_You know, for someone who supposedly hates my guts you're extremely nosy about my personal life," Potter told her, smiling knowingly._

'_He has a point,_' Lily thought. '_Why _do _I care so much? I mean, I don't like him. I hate him, we always fight – well, I fight and he flirts,_' Lily amended with a sad chuckle. The laugh died in her throat as her eyes opened in shock. '_Wait! _I_ don't like James…do I? We argue all the time…but I have been missing that. And that prank for Hermione…Sirius wouldn't know a muggle band if it bit him on the arse. That would make it James' idea. That was really sweet, but I don't remember enjoying it much._'

"_**All you need is love, LOVE!"**_

Lily frowned at the remembered flashback. _'It was really irresponsible of them… but it was so funny,' _she laughed to herself. _'But I was so miserable. Why?_'

"_I'm sorry, Evans, but what does my personal and emotional state have to do with you?" he asked, almost coolly._

That had hurt. He had been so cold to her… James had never been cold to her. '_Even though I've always been horrible to him,_' she realised, feeling guilty. '_He's always so nice to me and I always have a go at him._' Her guilt suddenly faded as another memory echoed through her head.

"_My dearest Evans, what I am trying to say is... will you marry me?"_

'_Well, it serves him right,' _she thought huffily._ 'He's such a git, being the perfect gentleman and flirt to the best looking girls and a perfect bastard to everyone else. I mean look at what he did to Snape just the other day and just because he's in Slytherin and has greasy hair. And poor Bertha just two weeks ago. He made her cry just because she was spotty. I _hate_ him!"_

"_Well, I HATE you, James Potter and I hope you drop dead!"_

"_I wish you hadn't said that, Evans," said Potter, softly. He sounded... odd. "I'd almost forgotten about it."_

Guilt came flooding back to her and she sat up in sudden determination. Whatever he had done, he didn't deserve to die. He sounded like a lost, frightened, little child and she had been ghastly to him. She owed him an apology.

Decision made, she got out of bed. She was surprised to see that all her year mates where in bed – well, nearly all of them. Hermione's bed was empty, pristinely made. Lily frowned at it, reflecting again on the absurdity of James' lie – '_or of the truth'_ – as she pulled on some trousers and lots of jumpers: it was freezing cold. She knew it was late – Merlin only knew the times that her dorm mates usually fell into bed – but she had to do it now, whilst she still could. She could not bear the thought of never apologising for her terrible behaviour and she knew the longer she put it off she would eventually convince herself that James had deserved it. And then how would she feel when he died?

'If_ he dies,_' she corrected herself sternly, as she crept down the stairs and into the empty common room. '_I don't think he was lying, but surely no one would be so cruel as to tell him his future if that was in store?_'

She was creeping up the stairs to the boys' dormitory now, the soft padding of her feet accompanied occasionally by soft snores from behind the shut doors. It seemed to take longer than earlier to reach the top of the tower than before. But then, she supposed, she was dreading this experience much more – much, _much_ more – than the one earlier. First of all, the mere fact that she was even _contemplating_ apologising to James Potter, her arch-nemesis, was more than enough to freak her out. Then there was the fact that there was everyone else in the dormitory, asleep, wearing Merlin knew what… she shuddered at the thought of Black in boxers. '_Plus, I'll finally be able to solve the problem of those boxers._' She shuddered again.

She hesitated outside the Sixth Year dormitory, breathing deeply. '_Cause the less I need to breathe in there is a good thing._'

She opened the door and stared.

For not a single bed was filled.

It was completely empty.

So here Lily was now. Sitting nervously, waiting for James to come back from whatever stupid prank he was pulling now. She was finding it harder and harder to feel sympathetic towards him when he was so obviously out wreaking his usual kind of havoc on the school and, most likely, the Slytherins as well. Her resolve to apologise was slipping and she was just telling herself that she would wait five more minutes before she went back to bed when the portrait hole slid open and a jumble of people rushed in. She could hear the Fat Lady spluttering incoherently from outside and got to her feet uncertainly as James, red faced and slightly out of breath, turned to the others. Lily got to her feet.

I'll go get your map then and – "

"Um, James?" Lily ventured, timidly, reasoning that she might as well get it over with.

They turned to her as one and, much to her surprise, they all groaned as one. Lily found herself blushing furiously and was very hurt to see that Hermione not only was with them but had groaned as well. Besides what she had said to James she had been feeling very guilty over what she had said to Hermione, but now it seemed that her accusation was right. Despite the very unpleasant feeling inside that she was not welcome here, Lily stuck out her chin and walked up to James, wishing fervently that her cheeks weren't so red. "James," she said, resisting the urge to look away as she looked him in the eye, "I just want to apologise about what I said earlier and that I'm really – "

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Lily!" James snapped at her, looking extremely angry and brushing past her aggressively. "It's half one in the morning and you want to apologise? Go to bed. I thought it was something important!"

And he ran off up the stairs to the boys dormitory, leaving a very awkward group of Gryffindor sixth years and an extremely indignant Lily, who stared after him, cheeks heating up again. But in anger this time. Not embarrassment.

"Well, of all the rude, egocentric gits!" she gasped, staring after him for a while longer before turning on the others. "And _you_!" she hissed, glaring at them vindictively, puffing up her chest (although her prefect badge was still on her robes so the effect was kind of lost). "What do you think you're doing walking around the school like this at this time of night! Remus, you're a prefect! And Hermione!" she added, glaring forcefully at her so-called friend. "This is the last thing I'd expect from you!"

Hermione blushed slightly, but glared back at Lily. "James is right, Lily," she told the red head. "You should go to bed."

Lily gaped at her. "Who are you telling me what I should do? I don't see a prefect badge on your clothes."

"Well, there's not one on yours at the moment either," retorted Hermione. The two girls glared at each other.

Peter shifted uneasily. "James is being a long time," he pointed out feebly. "Maybe I should go help him find the – so we can be on our way," he finished hurriedly and made towards the stairs. Unfortunately, speaking had drawn Lily-the-Prefect's wrath on him and she gave him the full force of her glare.

"You're going out _again_?" she hissed angrily. Peter paled and the other three groaned, but the cat was out of the bag now. "Well, I'm not going to let you!"

"Some things are more important than school rules, Lily," Remus pointed out quietly.

Lily rounded on him. "You're a prefect, Remus!" she snapped. "You should be backing me up, not collaborating with the likes of them! And besides, I fail to see any situation that would condone the breaking of school rules."

"I've found it!" came a voice from the stairs and James suddenly hurtled into view, clutching a yellowed piece of parchment to his chest in much the same manner that Hermione had been holding the book extract earlier. His voice and step faltered when he saw Lily standing there. "What are you doing here still, Evans?"

Lily took a deep breath, any earlier resolution gone. She was itching to slap him again. "Stopping you from breaking school rules," she informed him, equally cold.

James just raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh really, Evans?" he asked, casually.

"Yes!" Lily insisted, feeling annoyed at his lack of concern. She strode over and stood in front of the entrance, blocking their exit. Her voice began to rise in volume as he still didn't react. "You're not leaving the common room, Potter!"

"Lily, for goodness sake, just let us through!" cried the red headed boy, Ron, in worried exasperation. "We're wasting time!"

"Rules are rules," insisted Lily, glaring at them and – for the third time in the last five minutes at least – felt her face warming up. "I'm not letting you go anywhere!"

"Evans, just get over yourself for once and let us bloody well past!" yelled James, also going red in the face.

"You go and I'll tell Professor McGonagall!" Lily screeched, clenching her fists so tightly that she actually drew blood. "And you're the one that needs to get over yourself, Potter! Playing God to everyone in the school along with that pathetic excuse of a friend, Black! You, Potter, not me!"

"Damn it, Lily, there are some things more important than school!" James bellowed.

Lily snorted. "Oh yeah, like what?"

"HOW ABOUT THE LIFE OF OUR BEST FRIEND AND YOUR SON?"

Everyone froze and stared at Hermione, who was glaring at Lily with such a fierce intensity that everyone took an involuntary step backwards (Peter and Ron took three). The pure anger and terror on Hermione's face made Lily falter slightly, but she wasn't going to be tricked by that one. "Not that nonsense again!" she scoffed, but there was a hint of doubt in her voice that Hermione picked up on.

"It's not nonsense, Lily," she told the other girl, breathing deeply and trying to talk calmly. "We really are from the future and Harry really is your son. But whether you accept that or not, it still doesn't change the fact that unless you let us leave he might die."

Lily stared at her. "Don't be ridiculous, Hermione," she laughed uncertainly. "What on Earth is going to be in school that's going to kill Harry?" '_And he is _not_ my son!'_ she added mentally, shivering. That little fact was just freaking her out, because Harry looked so like James and, well… if he _was_ her son, then it turned out that what James had told her was right and one day she was going to have to answer that question of his with something other than a slap.

"How about that monster that attacked him the last night in the Great Hall, Lily?" asked Remus quietly. "It appeared out of nowhere, half killed Harry and then disappeared into thin air. Even Dumbledore doesn't know what it was. But we do now and if you don't let us out of here, it's going to attack Harry again and this time it could kill him."

There was a tense silence. Lily was gaping at him now, mouth hanging open. Her mind was hurriedly trying to make sense of Remus' words, but everything seemed to be jumbling together in a mess. "But that thing last night, it didn't attack Harry. It went after Black," Lily pointed out, as a feeble protest. She didn't want to believe them, but she seemed to be anyway.

"But when it went, who was the one that was bleeding uncontrollably?" James asked quietly.

That Lily couldn't deny. She had been there. She had seen how terrible Harry looked afterwards, blood pouring out of his bandaged hand, crying out for Sirius. She shivered again. There was only one question left now. "But why? Why go after Harry?"

The others seemed to sense that she was beginning to believe them and relaxed slightly. It was Hermione who answered her question, walking up and taking Lily by the arm. "It's a long story, Lily, and we haven't got time now," she said, speaking gently, as though Lily had just received a great shock – '_which,_' she reminded herself, '_I have._' "Just go to bed and we'll tell you everything in the morning."

It was only then that Lily noticed the other girl was gently steering her to the girl's dormitories. She glared and dug her heels in. "I'm not going to bed, Hermione," she told her forcefully.

James immediately went purple, face contorting in anger. "Damn it, Lily! Hasn't anything we've said gone into your overly dense brain?"

Lily glared at him. "I'm not going, because I'm coming with you!" she corrected angrily, and James stopped mid-sentence, looking surprised and embarrassed. "If he really is my son – and even if he wasn't – do you honestly think I'll just stand to one side whilst he could die?" She wrenched her arm out of Hermione's and folded them across her chest daring anyone to say otherwise.

There was another silence and then Hermione said, rather timidly, "Well, shall we go then?"

"I got the Map," James said, waving the battered piece of parchment that Lily had seen him coming down the staircase with.

Everyone crowded around him as James said – after glancing at Lily nervously – "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Lily was the only one who gasped as the blank parchment suddenly sprouted lines, which raced each other all over the parchment to form... '_A map of Hogwarts!_' Lily thought mentally, totally entranced. Over the top of the map was sprawled, in familiar messy handwriting, the words _Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs are proud to present The Marauders' Map. _And, what first looked like inkblots splattered over the parchment was, in fact, inkblots, but inkblots that moved and had little names under them. By looking at the Map she could see that Filch was patrolling the charms corridor on the fourth floor, whilst Professor Dumbledore was in his office. Looking at where the Gryffindor common room was, she could quite clearly see a cluster of dots, with the names 'Lily Evans', 'James Potter', 'Remus Lupin', 'Peter Pettigrew', 'Hermione Granger' and 'Ronald Weasley'.

The others were scanning the Map, too, but not with the fascination and amazement of Lily. They were scrutinising every corner of it. "There's no sign of either of them," James was saying, sounding worried.

"Wait a minute!" Lily said, feeling way out of her depth again. "You – you _made_ this map, James?" He didn't reply, so Lily took that to be a yes. After all, there was only one person called 'Prongs' in the school. "But that's against the school rules!"

Everyone ignored her, except for Peter who gave her a worried look. James just carried on talking as though she hadn't spoken at all. "This means that they must be in Hogsmeade. Damn it! Why didn't we extend the Map into Hogsmeade again, Moony?"

"Hogsmeade?" repeated Lily, before she could think. "But _that's_ against the school rules, too!"

This time she wasn't ignored, but she rather wished she had been when everyone turned to stare at her incredulously. "Lily, who cares?" asked James, scornfully. "You can take points off them and us when we get back and make sure that they're both not dead! Ok?"

She nodded, red faced again and feeling very small.

"James!" said Hermione suddenly. She had been the only one to continue scrutinising the Map when Lily had spoken. She sounded frightened. "Look there, going across the school grounds towards Hogsmeade! It's _Past_!"

"Huh?" Lily asked, totally confused. '_Past what? That sentence didn't make any sense at all!_' But she seemed to be the only one who didn't understand as everyone else paled.

"The statue of the humpbacked witch!" ordered James, grabbing the Map off Hermione and stuffing it into a pocket, but not before whispering "Mischief Managed!' and Lily watched in fascination as all the intricate outlines of classrooms and corridors vanished, leaving behind nothing but a yellowed piece of parchment. The parchment vanished from sight as James stuffed it into his pocket and began to race towards the portrait hole.

Lily restrained a groan as she began to move after them. _'I _hate_ not knowing what the Hell is going on here! And I am _so_ going to get expelled for this!_'

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

Time seemed to be slowing, dragging at him, so that every second seemed to take a thousand years. The memories were so bad now. He seemed to be living in them, experiencing the pain of each one at the same time, but magnified a thousand times. He couldn't remember anything else but watching Sirius fall through that veil with his parents succumbing to that blast of green light just to one side, Cedric, glassy eyed and motionless at their feet. Pain and remorse, guilt and anger, filled him completely until he was brimming with emotion. He could feel tears coursing down his cheeks. They stung, but they also burned. His hand was hurting him so much that it seemed it should block out all the other pain her was feeling. But if anything it was amplifying it. Hours of brooding over Sirius' death came back to him, relived in agonising slowness, but in reality it passed in barely a second. All the loneliness he had felt as a child, the ache of being alone and unloved, was exerted on him in the deliberate methods of a torturer. The way his hand had clenched hold of Cedric's cold, lifeless ones was stretched out until his good arm was aching.

And, behind it all, was two great bulbs of red light, pulsating and throbbing, whispering to him.

_Potter… Potter…_

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

James had never felt like this before. Never. He was absolutely terrified. James Potter _never_ was terrified. About anything. Or for anyone. Sure, he was worried about his parents – the Potter one was distinguished and, aside from being purebloods, the epitome of everything Death Eaters despised and sought to wipe out. But his parents could take care of themselves. They were aurors after all.

He was worried when Sirius had turned up on his doorstep in summer, looking like he's spent the last few days living on the street – which he had.

He was worried when Voldemort's minions attacked the school.

He was worried when Sirius had been attacked by Past.

But he had never been terrified.

Harry was an enigma to James, really. He couldn't even begin to understand him because he had no idea what his life had been like. Well, actually, that wasn't true. He knew facts about Harry's life. Lost father and Godfather, a lot of responsibilities on his shoulders, having to fight wars when he was a kid. But he couldn't understand Harry. He didn't think anyone could. Ron and Hermione might have had an inkling, but that was all. James had an idea that perhaps Dumbledore was the only one who came close to understanding Harry. The only one who ever would.

But, enigma or no, Harry was his son. He choked back a strangled laugh. His father would never believe how quickly he had adhered to the responsibilities of fatherhood, however small they were. His mother would understand. She was the only one he sometimes dropped his act around. His father thought he was a carbon copy of Sirius. So did everyone else. But he wasn't. He did care.

And that was why, now, running through the halls of Hogwarts for the second time that evening, James Potter found himself truly terrified. He was risking more than likely expulsion, running around Hogwarts with two time travelling teenagers, one extremely huffy prefect a mild tempered werewolf and a near-squib rat animagus, to try and save his yet to be conceived, let alone born, time-traveling son form certain death by a foe he couldn't possibly defeat.

He didn't think anyone would blame him for being terrified.

"How many times has Past appeared to Harry?" asked Remus, suddenly as they came to a halt, waiting for a staircase to swing into their current location.

"Well, there was one time in the infirmary," panted Hermione, grasping onto a banister for support, "and obviously that time in the Great Hall."

"So this time's the third," concluded James, feeling a little better. "Well, at least this means if we don't get there in time, there's still one more visitation left. Plenty of time."

Hermione glared at him. "That does _not_ make this any more urgent!" she snapped.

"Er… actually, I think that this is the fourth time, James," ventured Peter, timidly, looking very ashen faced.

Five heads whipped round to look at him. "What?"

Peter flinched but carried on. "It was a few days ago. I finished my essay early and went to see if Quidditch practice had finished yet. I looked out a window and saw Harry coming back alone when something big and black jumped out at him… I suppose that was Past. Harry did a spell and this big black stag came out his wand and he just sat there for ages. Then it disappeared and Harry did another spell and this time the stag was silver and Past went away," Peter gabbled, hardly pausing to breath.

"Holy Merlin, Peter!" cried James, the goodish feeling rapidly dissipating, "why the hell didn't you tell us?"

Peter flinched again, turning red and ashamed. "I… well, I wasn't even sure that I had really seen it," he said, not looking anyone in the eye. "And he seemed to be fine in the morning and, anyway, who was I going to tell?" he snapped, looking up suddenly, angry. "It's not as if any of you guys were on great terms with another!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Lily shifted nervously and opened her mouth, presumably to ask what the Hell was going on, but he cut her off. "Still not now, Lily! We _have_ to go!"

Almost as if on cue a staircase decided to appear on the landing and James tore up after it, hearing the others dashing behind him. Probably the most sensible thing would be to tell Dumbledore, but James had a feeling that this had to be solved by them. By him and Sirius, maybe even Lily, Peter and Remus. Certainly Ron and Hermione. It was a miracle that no one had caught them so far. The sound of their feet slapping on the cold, hard floor seemed to be echoing round and round until it was like drum rolls or thunder.

Finally he slid to a halt as the statues bent form loomed into view. As always, she stared at him with her crooked eyes, the grin seeming more like a leer in the pale moonlight. It was quite bright, meaning a full moon must be quite soon. Even as he gasped the password he had to marvel at Moony's strength. He always tended to feel quite ill and weak at the days coming up to a full moon.

Lily was gaping at the hole that concealed the entrance to the secret passageway. "You… you mean you sneak out of school through here?" she asked indignantly, turning to glare at him. "When we get back to school I'm going straight to Professor McGonagall and…"

"LILY!" hissed James, wondering if she ever stopped being a prefect. He still adored her, but at the moment it was more than a little bit annoying, given the situation. "Will you just get in the bloody passageway and stop being yourself for just one second!"

They were the only ones left in the corridor by now. Everyone else had already jumped. Lily's glare quickly diminished and she blushed slightly. "Sorry, of course," she murmured, jumping into the hole. As James followed her, he had a sudden thought, managing to smirk despite the situation. He was still wearing the smirk when he tumbled out into the tunnel a few seconds later. Lily stared at him.

"And you won't report us to McG, because how would you know except by sneaking off grounds with us?"

Lily glared.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

Harry stared at those red orbs, intrigued. They seemed to be the only way to escape the pain he was feeling… except he wasn't feeling any pain anymore. How odd. He turned around and looked behind him at the scenes of death and misery. Even _they_ weren't hurting him anymore. How extremely odd. He distinctly remembered always feeling a stab of misery and remorse when ever these images had popped into his mind before – and he was pretty sure that was where he was now: his mind. He supposed that that was because of the red eyes staring at him. He couldn't remember exactly what they were except they triggered a sort of… happiness? Well, that would make sense. After all, they were shielding him from all the pain and responsibility that usually assaulted him. Maybe…

He took a step forward, towards the red eyes, and instantly two things happened:

Harry was suddenly filled with contented happiness and joy, the presence of the images behind him fading slightly

He felt a searing pain in his hand

Harry stared at his hand, confused. On it was a large slash, red and recent looking. Small amounts of blood dribbled their way out and splashed on the black floor where it sank into it's earthy surface, disappearing. The cut on his hand seemed to mean something to Harry, just as the red eyes had done, but both seemed teasingly out of reach. It was as though a very large part of his life was missing, but he didn't know it. Harry looked up at the red eyes watching him, suddenly much more intense in it's scrutiny of him. Harry suddenly felt wary of these eyes. Red. The colour of Voldemort's. What if this was a Death Eater trap? Voldemort would know he would run away from the images behind him and towards the red eyes. But maybe the hand was a warning.

Harry stepped backwards.

The pain in his hand ceased and then returned as a small, dull ache. The feelings of contentment fled him, but Harry was used to that. If Voldemort was trying to lure him into a trap he should now better than to lure him with feelings of happiness and contentment. Such feelings were as alien for Harry now as they were for the Dark Lord. And it was a strange, extremely fallible trick for the cunning Slytherin. After all, why would Harry run away from the images when he couldn't feel anything about them?

"I will not play this game!" he said out loud, to whoever was listening. He sat stubbornly on the ground, glaring at those red eyes which suddenly radiated menace. Harry just had the time to reflect on how immensely glad he was that he had not carried on forward when the world dissolved into a tempest of whirling colours.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

Lily's indignation at James had completely faded away after two steps. It was fair play and she knew it. Besides, they seemed really, _really_ worried about whatever was going in Hogsmeade with Sirius and… well, _him_. She was still uncertain how she felt about Harry. Sure she had wanted kids when she was older – what kind of person didn't – but to be presented with a fully formed teenager the same age as her when she completely despised the boy's supposed father? That was a bit much.

She still didn't have a clue what was going on. All she knew was that Harry and Sirius were in Hogsmeade – _illegally_ – about to be attacked by a big monstrous dog that everyone else had taken to calling 'Past'. '_I mean, what is 'Past', anyway?_' she thought to herself, skipping over a rock that threatened to trip her up if she didn't pay attention. '_It makes no sense. Maybe Past is a kind of code word, but if it is then it's terrible. I assume they mean that monster but how can _that_ be 'Past'. If it was a species it would be 'a Past' but as a name?_' Lily shook her head, frustrated. She was horribly confused.

Putting on an extra burst of speed she caught up with Peter and Remus, Ron, Hermione and James being too far ahead. "Remus, can you _please_ tell me what the Hell is going on?" she asked, in between gasps.

Remus threw her a glance. "We're off to save Harry and Sirius from a demi-God of sorts that is trying to destroy Harry completely and doom the future," he told her, obviously deciding to compress it into as few words as possible. Over his usually pale face he was extremely flushed and next to him Peter was gasping from a nearly purple complexion.

"A _demi-God_?" Lily exclaimed, stopping with shock. Remus and Peter had shot past her and were almost out of sight in the dark tunnel before she realised what had happened. Remus circled back to collect her but Lily was suddenly aware of the extreme pain in her ankles and her own shortness of breath. When Remus grabbed her arm and lurched her forward it took all of her inner strength to make her legs move again.

"Well, that's the best concept we can come up with for him," Remus explained. James, Hermione and Ron were out of sight completely now and he could only vaguely see Peter. "Because Harry's from the future and is, er, mourning for someone who's alive here, 'Past' has a hold over him and is trying to destroy him. We have to stop him."

Lily went cold at his mention of mourning, but concentrated on other things. "And how exactly are we going to do that?" she asked, wild panic filling her. "I mean, we can_not_ destroy a demi-God, Remus! And, come on, not even Professor _Dumbledore_ could do anything about it last night! What the hell are we supposed to do?"

Remus face blanched. It was clear that none of them had thought about that. '_I knew I was here for something,_' Lily thought to herself, but was too hysterical to feel smug. "Well… we could," started Remus, "I mean maybe if we… er… oh for Merlin's sake, Lily, we've got to _try_! Maybe if we distract him enough we can get Harry out or something. But we have to try."

Lily did not point out that a demi-God was unlikely to fall for something as trivial as 'distractions' but Remus was right. They had to try. So she gritted her teeth and kept on running.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

Something chuckled to his right. Harry spun around with a half formed notion that Voldemort had decided to stop messing around. But the culprit of the laughter was as far from Voldemort as possible.

Harry watched, mouth dropping, as a grinning young man threw a small, grinning bundle into the air and caught it again, before swooping the giggling bundle around in wide arcs, growling out a fair impression of a broomstick. Sprawled comfortably on the couch, laughing at her husband's antics, was a red haired woman. They were situated in a cosy sitting room, decorated in a pale, pastel yellow, set off by the red couch and drapes. Gryffindor colours. Unmistakable, even when they had been watered down. A fire crackled merrily, silhouetting the two pumpkins with craggily carved faces.

At the sight of those pumpkins, Harry's stomach felt cold. Halloween. This was Halloween. He wasn't too sure why he felt such a surge of horror at the word, 'Halloween'. After all, it was just a harmless holiday. Right?

However, after that initial fear Harry felt nothing, so he dismissed it.

A shriek caught his attention and he turned sharply, fear spiking through him again. But it had been the small child that had shrieked. After being deposited on the floor by the young man, he had immediately begun to crawl across the floor, making for a pile of plastic pumpkins. By the way he had been drooling, Harry suspected that the kid was teething. But the black haired man – who Harry guessed was in his early twenties, barely out of teens – with a wicked gleam in his eyes, had shot a charm at the pumpkins which now ran squeaking every which way to reach the infant's grasping hands. Harry had to laugh himself, as the tot was wearing a look of extreme indignation that his chew toys were all refusing to be chewed.

"James!" protested the woman, half-heartedly, fighting a smirk off her face.

"What?" James asked, throwing her a hurt look. "Gives the pumpkins a bit of a chance – and aren't you usually blathering on about how we should treat innocent creatures with more respect?"

She smiled fondly at him and shook her head. "You idiot."

There was a bawl of triumph and all three of them – Harry included – looked round to find that the kid had finally caught one of the pumpkins and was in the process of sucking it noisily. The little pumpkin was squeaking noisily and the woman wrinkled her nose. "Ugh, James, that's perverse! Take the charm off!"

James did so and both of them leant back into each other's arms, watching the toddler chew happily on his now silent pumpkin. Harry watched them, enjoying the happy scene that was before him. It came to him that he had missed out on something like this in his life and he felt a sense of longing. But the small family was so happy that the feeling didn't last long. He wondered what year it was

The toddler had moved onto another pumpkin by now, the other one discarded and creating a wet patch on the cream carpet. James was softly stroking the woman's arm, deep in thought. Harry looked at James. He seemed familiar to Harry, but Harry couldn't remember if they had met before. James had black hair that stuck up every which way. Harry very much doubted he had ever been able to get it to lay flat. The nest of hair framed a face that had plenty of laughter lines and, more recently, some worry lines. He had a strong chin and hazel eyes, framed by glasses, that seemed a lot older and more stressed than they should be. Besides him, the woman also had the same look in her eyes. She was the complete opposite to James. Where his skin was tanned and brown, hers was an ivory cream. His hair was a black mess, hers was long, red and silky smooth. His eyes were hazel and hers a striking emerald. His lines were strong, hers were delicate. Harry wished he knew her name. It seemed important to him.

Finally, Harry looked at the child. He was staring happily off into space, entirely satisfied with his new toy. It was strange, looking down at the small child. Harry wasn't sure why. It was clearly just a baby. It had inherited the disastrous hair style of James and the remarkable emerald eyes of his mother. In face he looked more like James. He felt vaguely that there should be something else on the child's face. A birthmark perhaps? Then he shook his head, confused. '_Stop being an idiot!_'

All this happened in a fraction of a second and then the small child was merely a cute kid in a happy family.

"You know, Lils," James said, eyes still fixed on their son, "I love you. And I love Prongs jr too."

'Prongs', even though an extremely bizarre name, seemed quite familiar to Harry although he was pretty sure it wasn't the infant's name. 'Lils' sounded more like a pet name than the woman's actual one, but it was the best he had.

'Lils' shifted slightly so she could turn towards him, a suspicious look on her face. "Alright, Potter, what do you want?"

Harry laughed quietly as James feigned indignation at her remark. Pouting, he asked, "Why do you assume that I want something if I tell my wife that I love her – which I do," he asked, the act ruined as he leant forward to give her a slow kiss.

"Mmph!" murmured Lils, pushing James away and fixing him with a stern look. "That will not work on me, James. What do you want?"

James cocked an eyebrow innocently at her, but when she didn't budge, he sighed dramatically and moaned, "Alright, I give in! Just don't do the McGonagall look at me!"

Lils snorted. "We've been in the Order for nearly three years and you still call her Professor McGonagall!" she told him. "Just call her Minerva, for Merlin's sake!"

"When you've been in much trouble as I have," James informed her, "you would fear to call Professor McGonagall by her first name as well!"

Lils laughed, but Harry frowned. The name McGonagall also seemed to ring a bell and the Order ran a much bigger one. The way Lils said it, even in passing, made it clear that the Order was a very important. Harry suddenly wondered where he was. He couldn't remember what he was doing last…in fact, he couldn't remember anything except that his name was Harry and this was not happening now – it was a memory of some sorts. He had a faint notion that he should have been quite panicky about this, but all his attention seemed to be focused on the scene playing out in front of him,

Lils, who was about to respond to a sulky looking James, suddenly froze. James looked at her in consternation.

"What is it, Lily?" he asked, hand automatically reaching out for his wand.

"I… don't know," Lily whispered, eyes wide and frightened. They flicked towards the window. "I thought I heard something."

Harry felt his stomach knot in sudden fear. Already the scene had changed and tension wrought the air. What were they so afraid of? Unexplained feelings of anxiety, anticipation and dread flooded him as James cautiously approached the window, wand gripped so hard that his knuckles were white. Behind him, Lily was perched on the end of the red sofa, paler hands also gripping her wand. Prongs jr, oblivious to the mounting tension, gurgled happily from his search for another pumpkin.

James peeked out of the window, eyes scrutinising every part of the outside world that he could see. The tension was unbearable. But then James relaxed and relief visibly washed over Lily and Harry too. "There's nothing over there. It must have been your imagination, Lily." He gave a short, nervous and utterly unconvincing laugh. "Besides, Peter'll never betray us."

Lily nodded, comforted slightly, but still troubled. James crossed back over to the couch but the easy feel of earlier had gone. Both of them were lost in their thoughts. Prongs jr. had found a chocolate frog somewhere and was munching happily on the chocolate. Harry was actually very impressed with the youngster, for none of the sticky brown substance was framing his mouth. Hence, mum and dad would never know about his secret midnight munchies.

Over on the couch, Lily spoke. Her tone was quite light, but from the tension of her shoulders both Harry and James knew that this was quite important. "You do realise that if Peter _does_ betray us, James," she said, putting a finger on James' lips when he tried to protest, "all the blame will go on Sirius. Peter will go free."

"I know Peter won't betray us," James said, firmly.

Lily shifted, as though to stop herself from sighing in exasperation. "I know you do, James, but we know one of us is the spy," she reminded him gently. "What if we were wrong and it wasn't Remus? We should have at least told _Dumbledore_, James."

"He might have let it slip," James pointed out, although he looked a little unsure.

Lily looked even more unsure, but she didn't say anything. James, though, felt he had to do more to defend his friend. "Peter won't betray us. He may be a bit of a coward at time, but his heart's in the right place. Besides, Sirius is taking the heat off of him. Peter shouldn't have to deal with any Death Eaters at all. And Sirius is going to check up on him."

Lily was silent after this speech and both tried to regain the sense of calm they had earlier. Harry tried to piece together all he had heard to try and make sense of it all. '_Right, as far as I can tell, Lily and James are hiding from someone – Death Eaters? – and only this Peter knows where they are. Another friend, Sirius, is pretending to be the only who knows to keep the heat of Peter's back, but no one else knows about the switch, not even this 'Dumbledore' guy – _Harry here had a distinct impression of lemon sherbets – _and Lily is worried that they should have told Dumbledore the truth in case Peter does betray them._' Harry thought about that for a moment. '_Well, I agree with Lily,_' he thought, rather indignantly. '_Even if this Peter is unlikely to betray them, it's going to be really traumatic for this Sirius guy._'

Suddenly, was a clatter from outside. Harry, James and Lily all froze, horror filling their faces. Harry, although he didn't know what Death Eaters were, he could see enough in their eyes to know they weren't good. Lily and James both stood and Harry thought he was going to be sick. He kept telling himself that it was a just a memory, it was just a memory, but it didn't make a difference. It was still _real_.

James suddenly turned around, fear in his eyes. "Lily, take Harry and go! It's Him!" Lily stared at him, tears pooling in her eyes, mouth open wide. She made no move to go. "Go! Run! I'll hold him off – "

Lily murmured something that sounded a bit like "James" before she dashed over to where Prongs jr had stopped from his munching to look up at his parents. Scooping him up in her arms she dashed out of the room, shooting her husband one last teary look. Harry, too, felt tears well in his eyes. This wasn't right – they were so nice and they didn't deserve to die. And Harry knew that they were about to die. It was in the way James said 'Him'. There could be no escape.

James stood straight and proud, facing the door, wand clenched and held in a duelling position. If Harry had not seen the terror in his eyes a moment ago, he would have thought that James had no fear of the monster that was about to enter his house. Eyes fixed on the door, Harry heard James murmur, "I'm sorry, Sirius" before the door burst open and He stepped through the door.

Harry recoiled in horror. It surely had to be a demon, for what man had ever had such a white face, the slitted nostrils of a snake or eyes that evil red? His black cloak seemed to swirl around him like a menacing cloud and his black hair made him look like the grim reaper. He stood tall and menacing over the still strong figure of James Potter whose arm wand was steady and face was set. '_It's the face of someone about to die,_' thought Harry, small tears forming and falling down his cheeks. He felt honoured, in a way, that he had been able to witness James Potter's last moments. '_However traumatic and horrifying it will be, someone should witness his courage in the face of death._'

"Well, well, well, James Potter," He said, voice as silky and snakelike as his face suggested. "We finally meet. I give you greetings from your friend Wormtail. I thought it would please you to know just how eager he was to present you as a present to his Lord."

Harry felt an overwhelming surge of hatred for Peter – who he assumed was who He meant by Wormtail – but was surprised to see the anger from James' face fade after an instant. '_Instead, is he looking _sorry_ for Peter?_' Harry thought incredulously. '_What is the_ matter_ with him?_'

However, James didn't say anything and it was clear He didn't like being ignored. He snarled and said, "Goodbye, Potter. But don't worry, your mudblood wife and son will join you soon." And he raised his wand and spoke, "_Avada Kedrava!_"

A jet of green light shot out towards James, but he dodged and the curse instead hit a photo on the wall. Time seemed to be slowing down for Harry and even before it disintegrated he could see that it was a picture of James, Lily and three other men, all smiling and laughing. In the middle was Prongs jr, who was clapping his hands merrily. Harry thought it was quite poignant that this had been what Voldemort's spell had hit as this betrayal of Peter would destroy their lives forever. As it disappeared into oblivion, Harry wished heartily that he knew which one Peter was so he could fix him in his memory and identify him to the authorities whenever he had the chance. Someone should pay for what he had done to this family.

All this had taken less than a second and already James was yelling out a spell. "_Inflammare!_"

A beam of white hot flames sped towards He who froze them all with a mere swish of his hand. He had failed to notice, however, the much darker spell that James had sent after the fire charm and His sleeves were suddenly slashed open, dark blood – closer to black than red in colour – splashed out and marked the cream carpet. He growled again and sent another killing curse.

A green jet which James didn't manage to dodge.

Harry watched, horrified and screaming, as James Potter fell to the ground, eyes wide open, still with that look of mingled determination and fear evident in them. His mouth was set into a grim, determined line and his lifeless arm dropped the wand. As He gave a high pitched cackle, Harry watched that wand roll away from James, tears blurring his vision. James shouldn't have died. It wasn't fair. But then, since when was life fair? And this was a memory. There was nothing Harry could do about it… except remember.

'_Remember? Oh shit! Lily and Prongs jr.!_' Harry thought, turning around and dashing up the stairs in front of Him, who was gliding with a triumphant and determined air. His only thoughts were with Lily and the baby – had they managed to escape? '_Oh, _please_, Merlin, say they're not here!_"

But they were, Lily cradling her son, tears streaming down her face. Harry wanted to yell at them to _do_ something, but what could they do? Harry watched, crying, as Lily kissed the top of Prongs jr.s head and set him down in a cot, whispering to him that he was going to be alright. Prongs jr. didn't look too happy. He had a pouting chin and he was looking confused. Lily straightened herself up as the slow steps came nearer and nearer, turning to face the door and trying to hide Harry from the doorway. She was trying not to sob, but the tears were flowing faster and thicker than before.

The door opened.

Before He could put one step in the room, she was already talking to him. "Please! Not Harry!" she begged, as He levelled his wand at her, looking very annoyed at her interference. "Not Harry! Please – I'll do anything – "

"Stand aside – stand aside, girl," He snapped, trying to see past her into the crib.

"No!" Lily cried, defiant through her tears. "Just don't – please!"

But He didn't listen to reason. If something was in His way, He disposed of it. Harry shut his eyes as green light shot out of His wand. He didn't want to see her die, too. Not when she was throwing herself at His mercy. Not when she was trying to save her innocent son. Harry had an overwhelming surge of hatred towards Him. How _could_ He? How _could_ He just kill her, as though she were an annoying fly? When she was pouring out her heart?

But He seemed to have no heart, as he turned towards the infant who was staring at him mother in shock. Lily's face was still wet with tears, mouth half open with another plea. Her red hair was arranged like a halo above her face and her eyes were just as glassy and unseeing as James' downstairs. Prongs jr. was beginning to cry now and it just broke Harry's heart. Prongs jr. looked up at Him, who was grinning delightedly.

"Tonight," He whispered to the child, "history is made."

Green light shot out of his wand.

And bounced back of Prongs jr.s forehead to strike Him in the chest.

He gave a horrified, inhuman screech and disappeared in a world of green flame. Harry jumped back in horror and amazement, as He disappeared into oblivion. He had met his match in a little baby! It was incredible – but it was justice. He stared at Prongs jr. who was crying still. He now had a small, lightning shaped scar in the middle of his forehead.

As the scene began to swirl in a myriad of colours, Harry watched that little scar blur out of sight. It was only then that he realised Prongs jr.s name was Harry, too.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

Love,

Hannanora-Potter

~x~x~x~


	15. In which everyone charges into battle

**Title:** Time is a Healer

**Summary:** Harry, Ron and Hermione are suddenly and inexplicably thrown into the Marauders' sixth year at Hogwarts. Delighted with this chance to meet his parents and reunite with the recently deceased Sirius, Harry soon starts to cut his ties for the future, leaving Ron and Hermione seriously worried. And what's the monster that's starting to stalk Harry?

**Timeline and Spoilers:** Books 1 through 5, at the beginning of Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts (very beginning)

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and any related characters and setting are all the property of J.K. Rowling and not me.

**Extra:** '_blah_' = thoughts

_**Chapter 15 – In Which Everyone Charges into Battle:**_

Sirius gave a faint groan. He felt like he had the hangover from Hell. His head was pounding and even the slight movements he made when coming to were making fire race across his skull. His bed felt hard as dirt – smelled like it, too. '_Wait a minute!_' he thought suddenly, jerking backwards in shock. A _very_ bad idea, he discovered a split second later, as his head spun and he felt like someone was hammering on his head with a very, _very_ large hammer – Thor's perhaps. His vision seemed to be pitching and swaying, little black lines, diamonds and spots racing across them. He sat like that for five minutes, breathing deeply, waiting for the pain to recede enough that he could take stock of the situation.

The reason that the ground felt and smelt like dirt was because it _was_ dirt. He was sitting in the middle of Hogsmeade's version of a high street, moon nearly full in the black sky. Many sparkly looking dress robes flashed at him from Gladrags' shop window, whilst Honeydukes, even at this time of night, gave of the unmistakable aroma of chocolate. '_What am I doing here?_' Sirius wondered, staring unconsciously at a chocolate model of Hogwarts. Trying to backtrack, he thought through what he had done that evening. '_Well, I went to the Hogs Head with Harry and then we came back and I told him I knew that he was the future and then…_' He frowned. The rest was a complete blank. Thinking that abandoning him when he was obviously drunk was a very cruel thing to do, Sirius looked around for Harry – slowly, though. It took him a whole minute to be able to shift around to look behind him and then he did such a massive double take that all the effort was totally wasted.

"Ha-Harry?" Sirius spluttered, blinking his eyes furiously to ward off the reappearance of the spots. Also, he was kind of hoping that he was hallucinating.

Harry was kneeling on the ground, seemingly very relaxed but for the fact that his right hand was gripping his wand so hard that his knuckles were white. His arms were by his sides and resting on the ground, his face holding no expression at all and he was staring straight forward.

Right into the eyes of something else.

Sirius' first reaction was to run away from the monster – 'Malfoy' as he remembered Harry calling it – but that would leave Harry alone with it. Sirius didn't understand what was going on. '_Are they having a staring contest, or something?_' he thought incredulously. 'Malfoy' was sitting done, looking as docile as an ordinary pet dog. Except for the fact that it was more like the size of an elephant and it's large, sharp and yellowing fangs were clearly visible. '_Why isn't it doing anything?_' He shuddered in remembrance. '_It certainly went for _me_ viciously enough._' Again, the overwhelming urge to run pressed upon him, backed up with half remembered sensations of teeth and claws ripping into him.

'Malfoy' gave a faint growl and Sirius jumped, tensing muscles to run before realising he wouldn't be able to get to his feet without fainting as a wave of pain rippled across his body. 'Malfoy', however, was not chasing Sirius. It was still focused entirely on Harry, but it seemed to be a bit annoyed and his glare was more intense. Harry still did nothing.

Sirius was at a complete loss as to what to do. Maybe he should go and get help? He didn't believe he could have been out for more than a few minutes at the most. The Hogs Head and the Three Broomsticks would still be pretty full. He was more than willing to risk McGonagall's wrath if it meant Harry lived through the night. But what if, when he moved, the beast attacked him? Or what if it waited until he was out of sight to attack Harry? But then, what else was he supposed to do? Sit here, like a coward, for he was sure there was no way he was going to be able to beat that thing without help. But he _couldn't_ just sit here like a cowardly Hufflepuff! He'd never live that down.

Tentatively, Sirius reached into his robes to pull out his wand. He had absolutely no idea what spell he was going to use. He doubted very much a stunner would have any effect on something that size. Most other charms wouldn't have an effect on something that big. A hovering charm would work, but what use would it be? '_A reducto, then,_' Sirius decided, steadying himself to do the spell, before something half hanging out of his pocket caught his eye.

The invisibility cloak.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

Harry was now somewhere completely different. He was definitely outside and most probably in a maze – both assumptions were sort of given considering that he was sort of surrounded by very high, thick, green hedges. He wasn't really sure why he had been transplanted into a maze, but then he wasn't sure why someone had made him watch the last scene either. He tried to pull himself together and wiped away the tears with the hem of his sleeve. He had to displace a pair of black glasses that he hadn't realised he was wearing to do it and it was then that someone ran past him.

Harry blinked as the black blob ran past him, for a moment afraid that He was in this memory, too. But when Harry put the glasses back on, he realised that it was a boy. He picked up the pace and ran after the boy, rounding a corner to see him race on forward. The back of the boy's head was covered by black hair that stuck up every which way, the description of birds nest added to by a stray twig in his hair. Harry stopped running at the sight of that hair. '_James?_' he thought, incredulously. But the boy turned around suddenly, to check behind him, and Harry saw that it was Harry – the other one – identifiable by that scar on his forehead.

'_I am just stuck in Harry's memory, or something?_' Harry wondered, staring at the other boy. His similarity with James was even more evident at this age. He looked exactly like James, with only Lily's eyes showing that he wasn't, in fact, his father. He was rather short and scrawny, making Harry think that other Harry was about 12. He was quite excited – maybe there was a prize to whoever got out of the maze first. They had come to a parting of ways and the other Harry – who Harry decided to continue calling Prongs jr. or else he was going to get a headache – whispered to his wand, "_Point me!_"

Immediately, the wand spun around and rested pointing at the right hand path. Prongs jr., grinning excitedly now, dashed up it, racing so fast that Harry was finding it hard to keep up. He wondered what they were racing for. It looked to be near the evening time as the maze was getting quite dark. But that could be due to the enormous size of the hedges surrounding them. It could be the beginning of the day, the sun bright in the sky, and it still wouldn't have penetrated the thick foliage.

Suddenly, the gloom was lifting and there was a light ahead. Prongs jr put on a spurt of speed. So did Harry. He could see it now. It was a cup. Large and golden, it sat on a pillar in the middle of a wide, clearing. But someone else was running for it. Another boy, this one with straw coloured hair, was running quicker. Harry saw the disappointment on Prongs jr.s face. Then he saw the horror.

Some_thing_ was racing towards the cup and the boy was about to run right into it. But he was so intent on reaching the cup that he hadn't seen it.

"Cedric!" Prongs jr. yelled. "On your left!"

Cedric looked around just in time to hurl himself past the thing and avoid colliding with it but, in his haste, he tripped. Harry saw Cedric's wand fly out of his hand, as a gigantic spider stepped into the path, and began to bear down on Cedric. '_And gigantic is a major understatement,_' Harry thought, staring at the thing in horror. It towered above Harry and Prongs jr and it clicked it's pincers threateningly. All of it's legs moved at once and it's eyes stared menacingly at Cedric who was staring at it in horror, seemingly frozen. '_What kind of competition _is_ this?_' Harry wondered, backing away from it unconsciously. '_Why am I _here_? I don't want to see this!_'

Prongs jr.s stunners and other curses were having no effect whatsoever against the spider who, just like Him before, seemed to be enjoying approaching him in a slow menacing way. Harry leaped forward to do something when the spiders pincers reached out towards Prongs jr. but he just ended up sailing through the spider to come to a painful heap near Cedric. As Harry lifted his aching head off the ground, Cedric had gotten to his feet and scooped up his wand.

"_Stupefy!_" he yelled, flourishing the wand at the spider who had now lifted Prongs jr. in it's front legs. "_STUPEFY!_"

But his spells were having no effect. They hit the spiders black, hairy body, true, but the spider just concentrated on Prongs jr. Prongs jr. was struggling against the spider and kicked out at it before giving a yell of agony. Harry scrambled to his feet, hating the feeling of powerlessness. With James and Lily it had been different. They were fully trained adults – Prongs jr was just a kid like him. Prongs jr suddenly bellowed "_EXPELLIARMUS!_" and the spider shot backwards, releasing Prongs jr., who fell to his feet with a muffled cry, his right leg collapsing beneath him and splattering blood on the earthy ground.

The spider had fallen onto it's back, legs twitching crazily as it tried to get back onto it's fronts. It's pincers were clicking like crazy and it was rocking slightly on it's back. But, for the moment, it's underside was exposed.

"_STUPEFY!_" hollered both Cedric and Prongs jr. simultaneously and the spider slid sideways with the force of the combined spell, flattening a hedge and leaving it's legs sprawled all over the path with a tangled mess.

Harry was hit with relief for the third time that – '_day? Evening? I have no idea,_' Harry thought, the idea amusing him rather than panicking him. Prongs jr. and Cedric were still alive. He didn't think he could have handled it a third time. He walked back over to Prongs jr. who was still staring at the spider in shock. Even though he knew that he was only four years older than Prongs jr. at the most, Harry felt suddenly protective over Prongs jr. '_It can't be easy living without parents,_' he thought, watching as Prongs jr. took several deep breaths. '_I wonder who he lives with now. I wonder what happened to Sirius and Peter._' He felt a surge of hatred at the name. He wondered what His name was.

"Harry!" came Cedric voice, from somewhere on the other side of the spider. "You all right? Did it fall on you?"

"No," Prongs jr. called back, panting. He looked down at his leg and Harry bit his lip. It looked painful, his robes now a mixture of blood, dirt and a sticky, grey secretion that could only have come from the spider that lay unconscious not 12 feet from them. Prongs jr. made a small movement, as though to get up, but his face paled and he simply lay against the hedge gasping for breath. He was looking somewhere over Harry's shoulder.

"Take it, then," he panted, chest heaving. "Go on, take it. You're there."

Harry whipped around to see Cedric staring at the Cup, longing evident on his face. In the dying sunlight – this was a clearing after all, so the sun actually pierced the gloom – the cup twinkled and sparkled, throwing golden light on his face. Cedric turned away from it, slowly, to stare at Prongs jr. Harry wondered what the hell he was doing – he seemed to be making a quick decision in his head. "You take it. You should win. That's twice you saved my neck in there."

Harry stared at Cedric, as did Prongs jr. Harry felt respect for Cedric – he wasn't exactly sure what they were competing in, but it seemed very important. Had to be important, or why else would anyone have chosen to face that horrendous spider thing? Prongs jr., on the other hand, looked annoyed and angry. "That's not how it's supposed to work!" Prongs jr. said, wincing a bit with pain. He was starting to look a bit angry – and bitter. It seemed he wasn't too happy about Cedric winning the competition, but his pride was not going to let him win through what his honour considered cheating. Harry felt the same. But then, if he were in Cedric position he would have done the same, too. For both boys, pride was stopping them.

They were going to be here a long time.

"The one who reaches the Cup first gets the points," Prongs jr. continues. "That's you. I'm telling you, I'm not going to win any races on this leg."

Cedric takes a few pacers nearer to the stunned spider, away from the Cup, shaking his head.

"No," he said.

"Stop being noble," said Prongs jr. irritably. "Just take it, then we can get out of here."

Cedric watched Prongs jr. steadying himself, holding tight to the hedge.

"You told me about the dragons," Cedric said. "I would have gone down in the first task if you hadn't told me what was coming."

"I had help on that, too" Prongs jr. snapped, trying to mop up his bloody leg with his robes. "You helped me with the egg – we're square."

"I had help on the egg in the first place," said Cedric.

"We're still square," said Prongs jr., testing his leg gingerly; it shook violently as he put weight on it; it looked like he had sprained his ankle when the spider had dropped him.

By this time, Harry was seriously confused by their references to what he presumed was the rest of the tournament. Fighting a dragon was a bit harsh – not to mention impossible. Harry had seen how hard it was taking down a gigantic spider with two wizards – and a gigantic spider was easy compared to a _dragon_, with virtually magically impenetrable scales and breathing fire and _flying_, for heavens sake. And what was the references to eggs?

"You should have got more points on the second task," Cedric said mulishly. "You stayed behind to get all the hostages. I should have done that."

"I was the only one thick enough to take that song seriously!" said Prongs jr. bitterly. "Just take the Cup!"

"No," said Cedric.

'_Okay, now I really don't think they're sane. Rescue hostages from a singing egg?'_

Cedric, by now, had climbed over the stunned spiders' legs to stare at Prongs jr. quite seriously. Harry was curious as to what Prongs jr. was going to do as it was quite obvious that Cedric was _not_ going to back down. Harry knew what he would have done.

"Go on," Cedric urged, although it looked like it was very painful for him – as though it was costing him every ounce of resolution he had, but his face was set, his arms were folded, he seemed decided.

Prongs jr.s face turned to the Cup, glinting behind them in the setting sunshine. For a moment his eyes clouded over and he smiled a bit. But then he locked eyes with Cedric.

"Both of us," he said.

"What?" Cedric asked, disbelieving. Harry, however, smiled. That's what he would have done – that way, no one's pride gets hurt.

"We'll take it at the same time. It's still a Hogwarts victory. We'll tie for it."

Cedric stared at Prongs jr. He unfolded his arms. "You – you sure?"

"Yeah," said Prongs jr. "Yeah… we've helped each other out, haven't we? We both got here. Let's just take it together."

For a moment, Cedric looked as though he couldn't believe his ears; then his face split into a grin.

"You're on," he said. "Come here."

He grabbed Prongs jr.s arm below the shoulder, and helped Prongs jr. limp towards the plinth where the Cup stood. Harry followed them grinning in a ridiculously happy way. Was it possible that he'd become so attached to Prongs jr. after what was, in reality, only a few moments. He supposed he owed it to James and Lily – that this burden, of sorts, had been placed on him the moment he had appeared in that first memory.

They approached the Cup and, when they had reached it, they both held out a hand over one of the Cup's gleaming handles.

"On three, right?" said Prongs jr. "One – two – three – "

He and Cedric both grabbed a handle and the world dissolved into a rush of swirling light.

As the now familiar swirl of colours washed in front of him, Harry wondered whose memories he was stuck in. The only logical person was Prongs jr.s. After all, he was the only one in both of the memories he had seen. But he wasn't sure that an infant would remember that much to form the first memory. Maybe it was a biography, but a visual one. But James and Lily seemed much more real than someone would make up and what kind of person would put that into a book. It was terrible and belittled James and Lily's death to mere trivialities in a story. They were real, Harry was sure, and should be avenged, remembered _that_ way, not in a book.

In any case, it seemed to be looking at the most important parts of Prongs jr.s life – a rather ragged assumption, but it was the best one he could come up with. He wondered where he would end up yet.

The rushing stopped.

Immediately, Harry felt a sense of dread and horror.

The previous memory had not finished yet.

He stared around and all the anxiety of before came back tenfold. No matter how strange the tournament had been before, he was pretty sure a dark, overgrown graveyard was _not_ part of the competition. He heard something stumble next to him, and whipped round to see Prongs jr. and Cedric sprawled on the ground, the Cup rolling away into the dusty earth. Prongs jr. was looking very pale, glancing at his injured leg in between looking around. "Where are we?" he asked.

Cedric didn't reply, but got to his feet and then pulled Prongs jr. up, looking around, before looking back at the Cup, glinting eerily in the dim light. "Did anyone tell _you_ the Cup was a Portkey?" he asked Prongs jr. looking back at him.

Prongs jr. was still looking around the graveyard warily. "Nope. Is this supposed to be part of the task?" he asked.

Harry wanted to scream at them – did, in fact – to get out, but they couldn't hear him.

"I dunno," said Cedric. He sounded slightly nervous. "Wands out, d'you reckon?"

They pulled out their wands. Prongs jr. kept looking around them. So did Harry and he spotted the approaching person before Prongs jr. did.

"Someone's coming," Prongs jr. said suddenly.

Cedric, Prongs jr. and Harry all squinted through the darkness, watching the figure draw nearer, walking steadily towards them between the graves. Listening to the slow measured footsteps, Harry was having a seriously hard time fighting off a panic attack. He knew. He didn't have to see that face to know it was Him. That He was coming to finish what he started, all those years ago. For Harry, the memory of Him was still fresh in his mind and his breathing got faster and faster. '_Why does He want to kill Prongs jr. so much?_' Harry wondered, trying as hard as he could to breathe slowly and calmly, despite the fact that his adrenalin was pumping round.

He didn't know why Prongs jr. and Cedric were still standing there. '_Why don't they move? Run, for Merlin's sake!'_

But they still thought that this was part of the Task. And they just hadn't watched the death of James and Lily Potter.

As the figure came closer, Harry saw it was carrying something. Right now, Harry didn't care, only that it couldn't be good. He was reduced to screaming at Cedric and Prongs jr. to grab the bloody Portkey and get the hell out of there! But Prongs jr. was lowering his wand, exchanging quizzical glances with Cedric before turning back to look at the approaching figure. Harry had stopped screaming at them by now. He sank to the ground, head in hands. He did _not_ want to watch Prongs jr. and Cedric slaughtered. For the first time he seriously questioned why he was there. Why was someone torturing him like this? Making him witness the deaths of good people?

There was a sudden yell of pain and a thump. Harry looked up, despite himself, to see Prongs jr. had collapsed to the floor in agony, clutching his scar, wand slipping from his fingers and rolling away on the ground. Cedric had started to bend over Prongs jr. when the figure – who was now only six feet away – spoke, in His voice:

"Kill the spare."

"NO!" Harry yelled, leaping up to his feet, charging forward.

But it was too late. Up came the wand and a small, squeaking voice said, "_Avada Kedavra!"_

For the third time, a shot of green light shot out of the end of that wand. Harry flung himself in front of Cedric, but to no avail. The spell passed straight through him and he crashed to the ground, hitting his head hard. Scrambling to his feet he turned round, in vain hope that He had missed.

But He hadn't.

Cedric was lying spread-eagled on the ground beside Prongs jr. who was retching. He was dead.

For a second that contained an eternity, Harry stared into Cedric's face, at his open grey eyes, blank and expressionless as the windows of a deserted house, at his half-open mouth, which looked slightly surprised. And then Prongs jr. was being dragged away by Him.

"NO!" yelled Harry, for the second time, lurching forward after Prongs jr.

The scene dissolved into a tempest of colours.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

'_We're never going to make in time, are we?_' Ron thought to himself, panicking, by the time the end of the tunnel loomed into view. He was sure if he stopped running his legs would give out on him completely. As it was his clothes under his robes were soaked with perspiration and his breath was coming in strong lurching gasps. Besides him, Hermione was gasping as well, her face red and hair completely flying out every which way like it did when he had first met her. James looked slightly better off – but only slightly.

"Wait!" Hermione gasped, as they reached the trap door. She coughed and halted, flinging out an arm to rest on the stone walls. "Wait!"

James – who had far more breath than Ron did – spoke what was on both of their minds. "Um, Hermione, I th-thought we were _in a rush_!" he snapped, clenching his fists. Ron nodded vaguely from where he was doubled up, wheezing, concentrating as hard as he could to keep his legs from collapsing underneath him.

Hermione was too exhausted to even attempt a glare. "It's a – a _demi-God_!" Hermione said, in between gulps of air. "We need – _gasp_ – a plan!"

There was a clatter of running feet and they all turned to see a red faced Peter, followed by Remus and Lily. Giving out a huge sigh of relief to see that they had stopped, Peter immediately slid to the floor, breathing harshly. Remus and Lily were also gulping down air but Lily still managed to nod her head approvingly and say, "Good, we've stopped, because we need a plan. After all it's a demi-God so we can't just rush in there."

James shot her a half-annoyed, half-impressed glare. "Ignoring your tendencies t-to state the obvious, how on _Earth_ d-did you have enough b-breath to say that without breathing once considering we all just sprinted a good couple of miles?"

Lily gave him an embarrassed smile. "Practice from yelling at you."

Ron saw Hermione rolled her eyes, her own breathing returning to normal. "Now, we have to distract him long enough to explain to Harry what's going on," she told the others, pushing off her hand to lean her back against the wall and face them all. She gave her head a shake to get her hair out of her face and Ron found his thoughts drifting. '_Pull yourself together!_' he snapped at himself. '_Harry's about to die – no, strike that, _destroyed_ – and all you can think about is how much Hermione's eyes are sparkling!_'

"I don't think just _telling_ him to get over Sirius' death is going to make Past go away," Ron said, trying to get back on track. "I mean, we've been telling him that for weeks – months – and it hasn't changed a thing."

James shot him a glare. "Again, with stating the obvious," he snapped, fists clenching again. "We're in a rush," he repeated, "and I would appreciate it if you didn't waste our time!"

Ron glared at him, too. "I'm only trying to help!" he growled angrily. "And I have been friends with Harry for 5 years. You've known him, for what? One week?"

"Well, I'm his father, you idiotic bas – "

"CHILDREN!" yelled Hermione, stepping in between them and looking to be in the same mood that caused her to slap Malfoy in third year. Ron hurriedly tried to back away and ended up crashing his head against the wall and giving himself a headache. James had whacked his head on the ceiling when he had jumped at her sudden arrival and was now looking so cowed that it would have been funny – if Hermione's wrath had not been directed at him, too. "Concentrate! PLEASE! Save your 'mine is bigger than yours' contest for later!"

Despite the situation, Lily, Remus and Peter all laughed. Ron and James went bright red and shut up.

"Thank you," breathed Hermione, wearily. "Now, we don't know where 'Past' is going to be, but we can think up a general plan."

Remus nodded. "Right, from the look of the thing I don't think that any spells we cast will have any effect, so we'll just hit him with the most damaging curses we know."

"I think Ron and I should explain to Harry what's going on," added Hermione, glancing at Ron.

James' face immediately darkened. "Why can't I do it?" he asked, pouting in a way that would have been funny if the situation not so dire.

"I need you to distract Past for us," Hermione instructed, reaching out a hand to place on James' shoulder. "I know you want to help Harry – he's your son after all – but you guys," she said, nodding her head to indicate James, Lily, Remus and Peter, "have a distinct advantage over Past. And Sirius, too," she added as an after thought.

"How?" asked Lily, frowning.

"We can't die," said Remus, suddenly.

The other's whipped their head to look at him, but realisation was dawning in Ron's head, pushed on by Hermione's grin at Remus.

"Exactly," she confirmed, as everyone turned to look at her. "We know you don't die today. After all, Lily and James still hate each other at the moment and don't have Harry until after they've graduated. We've been taught by Remus and, er, we've… _met_ Peter. And Sirius has only just died. For the moment, it means you guys are all invulnerable to death."

"That doesn't mean we're invulnerable to death," Lily argued, pushing herself forward, arms folded. "All it means that we could change the future."

But Hermione was shaking her head. "No, the realm of 'Past' is fixed – it was all on the parchment," she explained. "Past can't do anything to you that will kill you."

"What parchment?" asked Lily, totally confused. "And Sirius dies?"

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances. "Not now, Lily."

"So, what happens?" asked Peter, who had been very quiet up to this point.

Ron gave his head a shake. "Right, you guys – and Sirius, if he's conscious – need to circle Past and fire as many curses as you can. Although it will probably compromise your own visibility, do anything you can to disorient him; fog, confundus charms, blinding hexes and so on. Keep circling – if he knocks one of you out, then you can revive them with the _enervate_ charm if you can."

James shot him a grin. "Been applying those chess skills to battle tactics by any chance?"

Ron grinned back. "A summer of being stuck in Grimmauld Place trying to keep my mind off Sirius' death? I had to do _something_ that wasn't study related."

"Sirius and Harry have got the invisibility cloaks, don't forget," inputted Remus, pulling Remus to his feet. "If you can get Harry under one of them it might hide him from Past – or at least get him out of the way."

"You have _invisibility cloaks_?" exclaimed Lily in horror. She looked almost too lost for words. Almost. "Is there no end to how many rules you break, Potter? No wonder you get away with so many pranks – and have the most detentions out of everyone in school history! I'm frankly surprised you have any free time at all! A map? Secret passageways? _Invisibility cloaks_? And Remus! You're A _prefect_! I don't believe you either! When we get back to the castle, I'm going to – "

"LILY!" roared everyone else.

Lily jumped and went bright red. "Oh, right. Sorry." She cleared her throat. "Charge then?"

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

Harry was still running forward when he popped into the next scene. He quickly came to a stop, feet sliding on the marble floor, immediately looking around him for signs of Him and Prongs jr. He was alone, but that didn't cause him to breathe a sigh of relief. None of the other memories he had been in so far had turned out to be happy. On the other hand, this memory would at least signify that Prongs jr. was alive, at least.

Or would it?

Before now Harry had been pretty sure that these memories were Prongs jr.s – after all, he was the only person that was in every part of them. But… '_How could he have escaped from Him just now? Prongs jr. was only a kid and He murdered James without much effort._' He shuddered, but swallowed rapidly to blink off the threatening tears. He didn't want to break down, not when he had at least one other memory to go through.

Harry looked around properly to see where he was this time – though he doubted he would recognise it. He could remember spells, laws and _things_ but nothing personal like people he had met and places he had been. It was particularly frustrating as certain things kept niggling at him – as though he had been there, or met that person before.

The room he was in was quite large, dimly lit, rectangular in shape and the centre where he was standing was sunken, like a pit, about twenty feet below where he could see the door. Stone benches were running round the room in tiers, descending in steep steps like an amphitheatre. Just behind Harry, in the middle of a raised stone dais, stood a stone archway that looked so ancient, cracked and crumbling that Harry was amazed the thing was still standing. Unsupported by any surrounding wall, the archway was hung with a tattered black curtain or veil, which despite the apparent complete stillness of the cold surrounding air, was fluttering very slightly as though it had just been touched.

'_Maybe it was me when I, er, _ran_ in, just now,_' mused Harry, walking closer to the veil, entranced by it. The archway had a kind of beauty about it, old though it was. The gently rippling veil intrigued him; he felt a very strong inclination to climb up on the dais and walk through it.

'_Wait a second – are those _voices_?_'

There were faint whispering, murmuring noises coming from the veil. Harry frowned and began to edge around the side of the veil, thinking that he had missed someone – that he wasn't alone after all. But there wasn't anyone there: just the other side of the tattered veil. He frowned at the veil, coming back to the front of it. There were still murmurs – murmurs that were always just too quiet to hear properly.

'_I wonder what would happen if I stepped through it?_' Harry wondered, taking a step towards the archway and onto the dais.

Various yells, screams and crashes suddenly burst through into Harry's brain. He gave a yell of shock and flung himself backwards. It was then he realised that the noises had come from above him.

Swivelling around, he spotted Prongs jr. come crashing out of the door on the top tier only to fall painfully down the steps as the floor ran out. Harry sprinted over to him as he smashed into the floor, back on the floor and stared breathlessly at the ceiling. Harry stood near him, letting off a string of curses at his uselessness. Prongs jr. seemed dazed – not much of a surprise, considering – but any relief Harry had felt at seeing him alive was cut short by the overwhelming fear that he was going to die as five figures dressed all in black save for a white mask dashed into the room above them.

They started laughing.

"Oh, shit – no, get up!" hissed Harry, flapping at Prongs jr. uselessly. He seemed to be clasping something in his hands which looked like a dusty glass sphere, streaks through the thick dust to show where it had been grabbed and carried. At the sound of the laughter he raised his head and looked above him, panic on his face. There were the bangs of other doors opening as more of the black clad figures began to move towards them, leaping from bench to bench. Breathing heavily still, Prongs jr. got to his feet and stumbled backwards, head twisting round to keep a sight of all the black bastards. Although, Harry was very impressed to note that most of them were breathing as badly as Harry was – and worse – and one – who didn't have his mask on and was leering at Harry – was bleeding badly.

"No, no, no, no, NO!" screamed Harry, head in hands as his fingers dug into his hair. "I can't take much more of this! Are you listening you BLOODY BASTARD! I want out!"

No one listened.

"Potter, your race is run," drawled one of the black bastards, who ripped off his mask. He had long, silky white hair and a cool aristocratic face, that seemed extremely smug at the moment. "Now, hand me the prophecy like a good boy."

'_Prophecy?_' Harry thought, surprised, shooting a glance to the dusty sphere grasped strongly by Prongs jr.s left hand. '_I don't get it_.'

"Let – let the others go, and I'll give it to you!" said Prongs jr. desperately.

Harry looked at him. Could this be soon after the previous memory. Perhaps He had imprisoned Harry and now he was escaping, freeing some of the other prisoners and stealing some weapon or something. '_A bit farfetched – besides, he does look a little bigger than last time and I can't imagine prison does wonders for one's growth rate._'

"You are not in a position to bargain, Potter," said Blondie, face flushed with pleasure. Harry felt a surge of hatred almost equal to that he felt towards Peter and Him. They had to be working for Him: after all, evil breeds evil. "You see there are ten of us and only one of you… or hasn't Dumbledore taught you to count?"

"He's dot alone!" shouted a voice from above them. "He's still god be!"

Harry's head shot upwards to see a slightly plump boy, blood rushing from an obviously broken nose, scrambling down the steps towards them, wand firmly grasp in a trembling hand.

"Neville – no – go back to Ron – "

Harry swung back to Prongs jr. seeing the desperation and panic on his face, then swung to look at the black bastards, who were moving towards them. "No!" he yelled, charging towards one of the larger ones, as Neville began yelling _"Stubefy!" _to little effect. "Leave him alone! Stop it! STOP IT!" And he launched himself at the largest black bastard, but, as before, he just phased right through him and Neville was seized.

Harry jumped to his feet and began systematically punching the black bastard in the back. It had no effect, his arms just going right through him, as the other black bastards laughed. It was as if they could see Harry and his totally helplessness. Harry carried on punching, concentrating fiercely in case that was it took to actually help, even as Blondie spoke again.

"It's Longbottom, isn't it?" he sneered. "Well, your Grandmother is used to losing family members to our cause… your death will not come as a great shock."

Harry had bit his lip by this point and his arms were aching, but he refused to stop. Some where within him he knew it was pointless – it had already happened. But what was he going to do? Sit here and do nothing?

"Longbottom?" repeated another black bastard, this one a female, who had long black hair and hooded black eyes, a truly evil smile on her gaunt face. "Why, I have had the pleasure of meeting your parents, boy."

"I DOE YOU HAB!" roared Neville, and he began to fight so hard against the Hulk (Harry thought the name was appropriate) and his encircling grip that he actually shouted, "Someone Stun him!"

"No, no, no," said Dead Girl, who looked transported, face alive with excitement as she glanced at Prongs jr then back towards Neville. "No, let's see how long Longbottom lasts before he cracks like his parents… unless Potter wants to give us the prophecy."

"DON'D GIB ID DO DEM!" roared Neville, who seemed beside himself, kicking and writhing as Dead Girl drew nearer to him and the Hulk, her wand raised. "DON'D GIB ID DO DEM, HARRY!"

Dead Girl raised her wand. "_Crucio!_"

"NO!" yelled Harry, jumping through the Hulk to reappear in front of Neville – just in time to see the curse go right through him and hit Neville.

Neville screamed, his legs drawn up to his chest so that the Hulk was momentarily holding him off the ground. Then the Hulk dropped him and he fell to the floor, twitching and screaming in agony.

Harry backed away, staring at Neville in morbid fascination. He couldn't take this any more. Why was he compelled to endure this torture – being helpless again and again, watching people die for no reason at all – except for the will of Him and His followers. He couldn't stop the tears now. He was exhausted from all the constant – and wasted – adrenaline and he couldn't handle this any more. He didn't want to.

As he reached the dais, Dead Girl raised her wand. "That was just a taster!" she said, as Neville's screams stopped and he lay sobbing at her feet. She turned towards Prongs jr. and Harry. "Now, Potter, either give us the prophecy or watch your friend die the hard way!"

Harry shut his eyes, tears streaking down his face. _'I don't want to be here, I don't want to be here – let me out, LET ME OUT' – _"LET ME _**OUT**_!" he screamed, as he bumped into the archway. He leant against it, sobbing, and sank to the floor, knees drawn up to his chest, head in hands. "Let me out," he whispered, screwing his eyes shut and wishing as hard as he could.

There was a sudden bang and, despite of himself, Harry looked, expecting to see either Prongs jr. or Neville dead.

But he was surprised.

Sure enough, Prongs jr had his hand outreached, the dusty sphere clenched in it, with a look of helplessness that mirrored Harry's own. Blondie was halfway towards them, but was currently staring behind him at…

'_A rescue!_'

There was a brief pause, before everyone sprang into action. One of the five rescuers, the woman with bright pink hair, had shot a stunner a Blondie, who caught the tail end of it as he turned and dodged. But Prongs jr. had already dived out of the way by this point, off the dais, as the people above them began raining spells down on the black bastards below, who had the severe disadvantage as they tried to climb up towards them. Harry felt a surge of relief that was quickly quashed by the little pessimistic voice in his head saying that all the other memories had ended in death – and that they were far from safe yet.

Looking around, Harry spotted Prongs jr. racing towards Neville, who was crawling along the floor. Dodging the hexes flying everywhere as best he could – although the necessity was redundant, it was very disconcerting to have spells flying through you all the time, Harry caught up with them just as Prongs jr. threw himself on the floor.

"Are you OK?" he yelled, as another spell soared inches over their heads.

"Yes," said Neville, trying to pull himself up.

"And Ron?"

"I dink he's all righd – he was still fighding de brain when I lefd – "

The stone floor between them exploded as a spell hit it, leaving a crater right where Neville's hand had been only seconds before; both scrambled away from the spot, then a thick arm came out of nowhere, seizing Prongs jr. around the neck and pulled him upright, so that his toes were barely touching the floor.

"Give it to me," growled the black bastard who was strangling Prongs jr., "give me the prophecy – "

"HELLO?" screamed Harry, whirling around to scream at the rescuers. "THE BOY YOU'RE TRYING TO SAVE IS _DYING_!"

But they couldn't hear him, and even if they could they were too wrapped up in their own fights. The pink haired woman was still stuck halfway up the tiers, firing curses down at Dead Girl, a dark haired gaunt looking man was fighting another black bastard and another one was fighting two of them at once. Harry couldn't see the other two. He twisted and tried to pull the black bastard off Prongs jr. – who was going very red – and, unsurprisingly, flew through him and Prongs jr.

"AARGH!"

Neville, whom Harry had forgotten about, cam e lunging out of nowhere and, unable to articulate a spell, he had jabbed the wand into the eyehole of the black bastard's mask. With a howl of pain the black bastard released Prongs jr. who immediately whirled around to face him, gasping "_STUPEFY!"_

The black bastard keeled over backwards, mask slipping off to reveal a very bloodshot and swollen eye on a very unpleasant face. Harry felt the urge to laugh maniacally, but was reminded of the danger as the gaunt man and the black bastard he was duelling came towards him. There was a muttered "Thanks" behind him as Prongs jr. pulled Neville out of the way of the approaching duellers, whose wands were a blur. Something electric blue and white went rolling across the floor and he whipped around to look at where it had come from, gasping.

One of the rescuers – missing eye, which was presumably what that thing was – was on his side, bleeding from the head and the heavily bleeding black bastard he had noticed earlier was bearing down upon them, long face twisted with glee.

"_Tarantallegra!"_ he shouted, his wand pointing at Neville, whose legs went immediately into a kind of frenzied tap-dance, unbalancing him and causing him to fall to the floor again. "Now, Potter – "

He made a slashing movement with his wand as Prongs jr. yelled "_PROTEGO!_"

Purple flames came out of his wand and rippled against the shield Prongs jr. had cast, but some of it got through, forcing Prongs jr. to the ground. Harry was, once again, attempting to beat the crap out of the black bastard, but, once again, it was having zero effect and Harry was falling to despair. "_Accio Proph_ – "

A black blur rushed at the black bastard and sent him flying as the gaunt man raced through Harry, wand already waving and sparking as they duelled. As the black bastard drew his wand back to cast what was probably some really nasty spell, a yell of "_Petrificus Totalus!_" came from behind him and the black bastard dropped like a stone.

The gaunt man turned with Harry to see Prongs jr.s' wand still raised. The gaunt man grinned. "Nice one!" he shouted before forcing Prongs jr.s' head down as a pair of stunning spells flew towards them. "Now I want you to get out of – "

A green jet caused them to duck as it narrowly missed the gaunt man, and Harry turned to see the pink haired woman fall from where she was positioned halfway up the steps, causing her to tumble from seat to seat and Dead Girl, triumphant, ran back towards the fray.

"Harry, take the prophecy, grab Neville and run!" the gaunt man yelled, dashing to me Dead Girl, before the man he had seen earlier blocked his view, battling a pockmarked male black bastard. Another jet of green light headed their way and Harry turned back to see Prongs jr. hauling Neville to his feet, Neville's arm around his shoulders. It was no use, however, as Neville's legs were still flying in every direction and would not support him. And then…

"LOOK OUT!" yelled Harry, too late, as Blondie launched himself at the two boys. They all fell, Neville resembling an overturned beetle as he crashed on the floor, back first. Prongs jr. had fallen face first, Blondie on his back, who was now jabbing his wand into Prongs jr.s ribcage as Prongs jr. tried to hold the prophecy out of reach with his left hand. "The prophecy, give me the prophecy, Potter!" he snarled.

"No – get – off – me… Neville – catch it!"

Prongs jr. flung the prophecy across the floor to Neville, who span himself around on his back and scooped the ball to his chest. Blondie pointed the wand instead at Neville, but Prongs jr. jabbed his own wand back over his shoulder and yelled "_Impedimentia_!"

Blondie was blasted off his back and crashed into the dais as Prongs jr. scrambled to his feet and looked around. Blondie got to his feet, wand raised at the two of them again, but before he could strike, the last rescuer, who looked quite young but for the fact that he had partially grey hair, jumped between them.

"Harry, round up the others and GO!"

Prongs jr. seized Neville by the shoulder of his robes and lifted him bodily on to the first tier of steps, Harry following, as useful as a fur coat in Africa. Neville's legs were twitching and jerking and would not support his weight; Prongs jr. heaved again with all the strength he possessed and they climbed another step –

A spell hit the stone bench at Prongs jr.s' heel; it crumbled away and he fell back to the step below. Neville sunk to the ground, his legs still jerking and thrashing and he thrust the prophecy into his pocket.

"Oh, shit – come on – hurry up!" yelled Harry, close to biting his nails, he was so anxious. He kept expecting Him to arrive and just blast everyone to pieces. He couldn't jack just sitting here doing nothing – but he couldn't do _anything_ and it was driving him crazy! "Just use bloody '_finite_' and you can get out of her – ALIVE!"

"Come on," said Prongs jr. desperately, hauling at Neville's robes. "Just try and push with your legs – "

He gave another stupendous heave and Neville's robes tore all along the left seam – the small spun glass dropped from his pocket and, before either of them could catch it, one of Neville's floundering feet kicked it: it flew some ten feet to their right and smashed on the step beneath them. As all three of them stared at the place where it had broken, appalled at what had happened, a pearly white figure with hugely magnified eyes rose into the air, unnoticed by any but them. Harry could see it's mouth moving, but in all the crashes and screams and yells surrounding them, not one word of the prophecy could he hear. The figure stopped speaking and dissolved into nothingness.

"Harry, I'b sorry!" cried Neville, his face anguished as his legs continued to flounder. "I'b so sorry, Harry, I didn'b bean do – "

"It doesn't matter!" Prongs jr. shouted. "Just try and stand, let's get out of – "

"_Dubbledore!_" said Neville, his sweaty face suddenly transported, staring over Prongs jr.s' shoulder and through Harry.

"What?"

"DUBBLEDORE!"

Harry turned around to look where Neville was staring. Directly above them, framed in the doorway from the room Prongs jr. and Neville had come from, stood an old man, wand aloft. Harry stared at him in interest. He had the longest white beard Harry had ever seen – or that's what he thought, considering that the only people he could remember where the ones he had seen in these memories. He couldn't even remember his parents.

A blur raced past them and Harry blinked. '_Alright, he might look old, but boy can he move fast. And he looked pissed as hell earlier._'

Neville and Prongs jr, - who had seemed to have given up all notions of leaving – were staring in awe at Dubbledore – although Harry had a sneaking feeling that his name was actually Dumbledore, as he'd heard that name a couple of times – and Harry couldn't blame them. As soon as the black bastards noticed Dumbledore, they gave a yell and began to run away, some already scrambling up the sides of the amphitheatre. Harry watched, whistling, as Dumbledore's spell pulled him back as easily and effortlessly as though he had hooked them all on an invisible line.

Harry's adrenaline was beginning to leave him now. '_Maybe no one is going to die this time,_' he thought, daring to grin slightly.

Then, he noticed that one couple was still fighting.

Apparently unaware of Dumbledore's arrival, Harry saw the gaunt man duck Dead Girl's jet of red light: he was laughing.

"Come on, you can do better than that!" he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room.

The second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest.

The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock.

Harry stared in horror, twisting as Prongs jr. raced past him, jumping down the steps and pulling out his wand. It wasn't a killer curse, but Harry knew. This was it. The death. The whole reason he had been shoved into this memory. And there was nothing he could do about it. He was helpless.

It seemed to take the man an age to fall: his body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backwards through the ragged veil hanging from the arch. Below him, Prongs jr. almost seemed to be moving in slow motion, horror and despair crossing his features. The man's face held a look of mingled fear and surprise on his face as he fell through the ancient doorway, disappearing behind the veil, which fluttered for a moment, as though in a high wind, then fell back into place.

Dead Girl gave a triumphant scream and everything suddenly clicked back into real time. Harry raced after Prongs jr. as he tore across the floor, but what could he do? He was an observer, a bystander, condemned – no, _cursed_ – to watch Prongs jr.s' life come apart. He didn't know who the gaunt man was, but he had to have been important to him.

"SIRIUS! SIRIUS!"

Harry stopped running in shock. '_Sirius – oh Merlin!_' At once, the wasted face trigged a faint memory – of a photo of five friends crashing to the floor and burning. He vaguely noted that the grey haired young man had stopped Prongs jr. and was talking to him, even as he struggled towards the veil, calling out Sirius' name.

"YOU BASTARD!" he screamed, suddenly, jumping onto the stone bench near him and staring upwards. "IS THIS _AMUSING_ YOU? ARE YOU HAVING A GOOD TIME – WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME LIVE THROUGH THIS? DO YOU FIND IT ENTERTAINING TO WATCH HIS LIFE FALL APART AS I STAND BY, HELPLESSLY?" Tears were streaming down his face now – he let them. He didn't care anymore. "I WANT OUT – DO YOU HEAR ME? GET ME OUT! _**NOW**_!"

He clambered up the stone tiers, with the vague idea that the higher he got, the better whoever was pulling the strings around here would hear him.

"I CAN'T TAKE ANY MORE OF THIS – I GIVE UP! I SURRENDER! WHATEVER I DID TO GET MYSELF INTO THIS I'M SORRY! PLEASE! JUST GET ME THE HELL OUT OF THIS PLACE! I DON'T WANT TO BE HELPLESS ANY MORE!

_**LET ME OUT**_!"

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

Love,

Hannanora-Potter

~x~x~x~


	16. In which Harry makes a decision

**Title:** Time is a Healer

**Summary:** Harry, Ron and Hermione are suddenly and inexplicably thrown into the Marauders' sixth year at Hogwarts. Delighted with this chance to meet his parents and reunite with the recently deceased Sirius, Harry soon starts to cut his ties for the future, leaving Ron and Hermione seriously worried. And what's the monster that's starting to stalk Harry?

**Timeline and Spoilers:** Books 1 through 5, at the beginning of Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts (very beginning)

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and any related characters and setting are all the property of J.K. Rowling and not me.

**Extra:** '_blah_' = thoughts

This is **not** a new chapter. TiaH has been reformatted and chapters split up so that none of them are much over 10,000 words (the old chapter 13 was over 30,000 which is just ridiculous). The first **new** chapter is chapter 20. Enjoy!

**Chapter Sixteen: In Which Harry Makes a Decision**

James eased the stone trapdoor open. '_Why did it have to be made of stone?_' he thought, trying to lowering it as slowly – and quietly – as he could. '_Usually we just bang it open,_' he thought bitterly, as he pulled himself out of the passageway beneath. '_But then usually we don't do this in the middle of the night – why didn't we use one of the other ones?_'

Hermione was next out of the hole, followed by Peter, Lily, Ron and finally Remus.

"Where are we?" asked Lily, looking around her in curiosity.

James, who by pure coincidence was closest, clamped a hand over her mouth. He could see her emerald eyes widen in surprise and then narrow in indignation. She made a noise as though to complain and James risked a whisper. "Shut it, Lily, we're in the basement of Honeydukes," he hissed, jerking his head at Remus, who climbed carefully up the basement stairs to see if they'd been heard. Lily had gone completely still, both of them following Remus' progress. Still, he couldn't help catching a whiff of her hair: '_Mmm, coconut._'

Remus gave the all clear sign and James let go of Lily, who swivelled around, opening her mouth to snap at him. He cut her off with another whisper. "Merlin, Lily, how dumb can you be – and don't yell at me," he added, as her face grew darker. "We're on a rescue mission, remember?"

Lily shut her mouth, still glaring at him. "Alright, but the basement of Honeydukes? When we get back to school – "

"Yes, school, yell at me then," James agreed absentmindedly, creeping towards the basement door. He didn't notice Lily's indignant expression as she stared after him. She scrambled up the steps after him, trying to think up a reply, Peter following after her not wanting to be left behind. In the basement, Ron and Hermione exchanged exasperated grins, before following him.

"Door's open, path clear," hissed Remus, sneaking out into the store.

James was hot on his heels. "Come on, let's get out and find – never mind."

"What?" asked Peter, coming up behind James. "Bloody Merlin!"

Through the display window they could see Harry and Past, staring at each other, neither one moving or blinking. Worse, Past was now the size of an elephant and…

"Where's Sirius?" whispered Remus, staring over Peter's shoulder. "Wait there he is."

Sirius was sat on the floor, looking the worse for wear, but seemed to be actually capable of movement and thought, which was more than he could say for the other two. Sirius was just sat staring at the two, but he was slowly drawing his wand out of his pocket.

"I don't like this," said Ron, staring worriedly at Harry and Past. "I think I preferred it when he was snarling and clawing – what in Merlin's name is he doing now?"

"I don't know – but Past doesn't look entirely happy, does he?" pointed out Hermione, pushing Ron out of the way to see better. "Maybe we have a chance."

"As in we didn't before?" asked Lily, indignantly.

"Demi-God, Lily."

"Oh, right. No, wrong, how has that changed?"

"Whatever he's doing, it must be how Harry chooses," said Hermione, biting her lip as she thought. "It looks to be psychological – maybe a kind of induced hallucination that makes him confront his fears. Maybe he's trapped inside his own mind, but he's definitely not with us."

"And neither is Past," added James, reaffirming his grip on his wand and heading towards the door, face determined. "Come on, let's go."

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

'_Ok, so I'll just pull on the invisibility cloak and go over and drag Harry somewhere else. That's not hard – in fact, that's really easy. If it can't smell us. Or hear us. Or follow our tracks in the ground. Or just see through the invisibility cloak entirely. Yes, that's an _excellent_ way to boost moral! Way to go, Padfoot, you idiot.'_

Sirius kept one eye as best he could on 'Malfoy' as he slowly reached a hand back into his pocket to draw out the invisibility cloak. His head was aching from just sitting upright so he could only imagine what standing up would be like. But by that point he'd be under the invisibility cloak so any embarrassing falls and unmanly collapses would be hidden from the world.

There was a small sound and Sirius froze, heart racing. Had it come from 'Malfoy'? He was beginning to look a bit annoyed – well, Sirius wasn't an expert at reading scary, disgusting large monster-dog things that tried to eat his future godson, but that was the impression he got. Harry, on the other hand, was still completely blank but Sirius spotted a little bit of reflected light off of his face – was he crying? Could the noise have come from him?

Sirius remained absolutely still, ears straining to pick up any stray sound. The moment passed and all he could hear was his own ragged, fast breathing and the continuous drum of his heart betting in his ears. There wasn't even any wind.

_**BANG!**_

Sirius yelled as behind him a door exploded and several spells shot over his head to Malfoy. Splinters raining down on him, black swirls and spots racing across his vision as an agonising wave crossed his mind. Bile surged in his throat and he felt someone yank the invisibility cloak out of his hands. There were yells everywhere, different incantations and the whiz of spells. Footsteps were running, pounding in his head, and a horrible roar.

"Ron, grab Sirius – get him out of here!"

"_Lumos Solaire!"_

Amongst all the confusion, Sirius felt someone grab the back of his robes and drag him backwards, with much groaning and cursing. The noises of the fight were gradually lessening, but that could be due to either the fact that they were getting further away or because Sirius' ears were roaring with the enforced movement. They gradually came to a halt and Sirius stomach began to settle, his eyes refocusing on what was going on. He couldn't see Harry, James, Lily, 'Malfoy' or anyone any more, due to the fact that his so called rescuer had dragged him round a corner in the street to hide him from view.

And speaking of his rescuer…

Sirius turned to glimpse Ron on his feet, red faced and panting, as he bent forward, hands on knees. Sirius scowled at him. "I'm not _that_ heavy, you know!"

Ron looked up at him, face pained, but scowling. "You try dragging a dead weight across Hogsmeade, whilst trying to avoid being eaten by a huge demi-God after running around the school for a couple of hours," he snapped, although the insult lost some of it's edge when Ron had to gasp for breath half way through.

"Hold on: _Demi-God?_" asked Sirius, alarmed, staring at Ron in horror. "Is that what that thing is?" As Ron gave a mute nod Sirius attempted to jump to his feet. "We've got to – argh!"

His trembling legs couldn't take his weight and they crumpled, even as his head began to spin once more, ears roaring, and he crashed into the ground, nearly passing out as he did so. He lay there, dazed, for what seemed like an eternity, but was, in reality, only a few seconds. He vaguely heard Ron swear and gently tap Sirius on the shoulder with his wand. "_Severe concussion,_" Sirius heard him say, as he blurrily tried to figure out what felt wrong with his mouth. "_A bit of alcohol induced… er, _symptoms_, shall we say. That certainly isn't helping._' On top of Ron's diagnosis, Sirius could hear some remnants of the battle:

"Lily, watch out!"

CRASH!

"_Reducto!"_

Sirius didn't hear the incantation, just felt a cool _whoosh_ hit him in the back and a cooling liquid seemed to spread through his veins, soothing his aching head till the ache was almost gone. He could suddenly identify the strange taste in his mouth – dirt – as he realised that his mouth was pressed into the ground, and the ground was pressing into him. "Ueuff!"

Sirius shot upwards, spitting the dirt out of his mouth in disgust. '_Merlin, I hope there's no girls around here, otherwise I won't get a date for the rest of the year!_' The sound of the battle behind him suddenly reached his ears and he swore. "Oh shit! We've got to help!" And he turned around to run over to help his friends, hearing James' voice ring out in panic:

"Lily, it's all him – all Past! _Confundus!"_

Ron, however, grabbed his arm. "Wait, Sirius!" he said, as Sirius turned to glare at them.

"Hello, Wesley: battle, Harry, James etc. dying? Any of this ring a bell?" Sirius snapped, trying to yank his arm free. However, for someone who had had difficulty dragging him a wile ago, Ron was clearly much stronger than he looked.

"You need to know what's going on!" Ron insisted, though he winced as there was a particularly loud crash from behind them. "That monster thing is a demi-God called Past who is trying to destroy Harry with memories of… well, _you_. You see, where – when – we've come from you've just… well, let's say Harry isn't having too great a time and misses you. We need to distract Past whilst Hermione and I talk to Harry. But this is the past, and past is fixed so none of you here can die because we know you all."

All this came out in rather a rush and Sirius didn't quite understand most of it, but he nodded anyway. '_My best friends are in danger: what's left to ask?_'

There was a heart wrenching scream of "JAMES!" and both boys exchanged fearful glances. Ron released Sirius' arm and, gripping their wands, they raced towards Past.

'_Wait a minute! Did he say I was invincible? Hmm… I think I'll come back to that later…_'

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

"LET ME OUT!"

Harry abruptly stopped yelling, shocked as he suddenly found himself in a black space. His first thought was despair: this was another memory. But then, he stopped, frowning. Because this place, wherever he was, didn't feel _real_. He could feel the tears on his checks, and the fabric of his clothes and shoes, but they were like semi-sensations, not really there with the rest of him. He couldn't feel the ground under his feet either and, upon looking down, found he couldn't see a floor beneath his feet. It was quite nauseating in truth because he didn't feel like he was floating or falling, but there was nothing to prove he wasn't.

'_Maybe someone heard me,_' Harry thought, semi-hopefully.

"Erm, hello?" he called tentatively, peering round as best he could.

Nothing.

'_Or not,_' Harry amended, automatically glancing upwards as a soft yellow light came on gradually illuminating the area around him. Looking down, Harry was relieved to see that his feet were resting on a strange, black, earthy surface and he wasn't just hovering in mid air. The light only lit a small area with a radius of a couple of feet from where he was standing. Wondering what else was with him where ever he was, Harry took a couple of steps forward. Nothing. Then he tried a small run left. Still nothing. The same happened when he ran right and then backwards, culminating in him tripping over his feet and landing heavily on the floor.

'_Ok, I can take a hint!'_ Harry thought grumpily, sitting up and giving his ankle a rub.

He stared around him, trying to peer in the darkness, supposing someone _had_ to be there, because they had dragged him out of Prongs jr.s memories…

His thoughts trailed off as he thought about the three memories he had seen. He hid his head in his hands, fighting the sobs that threatened to overwhelm him. It wasn't even his life, for Merlin's sake! But he had been there, through all three… completely helpless. He had stood by and watched as people were destroyed, literally and metaphorically.

And Harry found it wasn't James, Lily, Cedric or Sirius who his thoughts lingered on, but, rather, Prongs jr. Prongs jr. had had everyone he cared about ripped away from him as suddenly and cruelly as Harry had been yanked from memory to memory. Just what he was feeling after Sirius' death…

Harry shuddered.

The look of pure anguish on the kids' face was heartbreaking and seemed to imprint itself on Harry's soul, burning him. '_No one deserves that,_' Harry thought sorrowfully. '_No one deserves to be that helpless either,_' he added, thinking of both himself and Prongs jr. '_But there was nothing he could have done!_' he argued with himself, as though defending Prongs jr.s actions from someone. Really, he knew, he was just trying to stem off the tears. But he couldn't stop the next thought. _'Plenty I could have done, though._'

And he broke down, alone in the darkness.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

"We're going to have to break down the door," hissed Remus, turning to Hermione as though for confirmation.

She shot a fearful look up at the ceiling. "But the owners will hear!" she pointed out, nervously.

"Doesn't matter," said James shortly, levelling his wand at the door. "Any unlocking charms I know aren't working and we need to get out there asap. Besides," he added, shooting a glance upwards, "we're going to need everyone we can get to distract that thing. Just because it can't kill us doesn't mean it can't come close."

The others all shifted nervously at that, but James didn't give them a chance to respond as he started counting down form three.

"3…2…1 – _REDUCTO_!"

The door exploded spectacularly, but even before the splinters had a chance to start falling he was out of the door, Remus and Hermione close behind. She ran over to Sirius, who seemed to be in shock, and grabbed the invisibility cloak roughly out of his hands. He didn't seem to notice her and Hermione called back over her shoulder, even as she ran towards Harry and Past: "Ron, grab Sirius – get him out of here!"

Any sound of confirmation he might have made was lost as James shouted out a spell.

"_Lumos Solaire!"_

Even screwing her eyes shut as much as she dared, the sudden light came as a painful shock, blinding her momentarily as she stumbled towards Harry blindly, hoping she wouldn't run smack into Past.

"Lily, watch out!"

Peter's cry made her heart freeze in momentary panic. For all that her mind knew that none of the Marauders or Lily could possibly die, it didn't stop her heart from reacting to the adrenalin pumping round her system. Her eyes were clearing by that point and she just caught a petite blur leap backwards hurriedly, a sudden crash ringing through the air as something from above plummeted into the ground where Lily had been standing not that long ago. Hermione gave her head a little shake, continuing forward to where she could see a small black blob around where Harry was as Lily, recovering, shot off a spell: "_Reducto!"_

She could see that it was Harry now, running as fast as she could to reach him, ending up sliding across the muddy ground the last few feet, invisibility cloak partly raised. Half kneeling, half sitting by Harry's side she followed his unwavering gaze to meet the blood red eyes of Past. Immediately, she could hear in the very furthest reaches of her mind the memory she had witnessed previously, but she blinked it away, glaring defiantly at Past as she swept the invisibility cloak over the two of them, hiding them from Past's view.

Although she could still see Past and his menacing stare, the intensity was lessened and Past gave out a livid roar that made Hermione quaver, before she got a grip on herself.

"Lily, it's all him – all Past! _Confundus!_"

"JAMES!"

Trying to block out the sounds of the continuing battle, Hermione looked properly at her best friend since the day before. Harry's green eyes were so wide she could see the white of his eyes around the irises, but they were distant, confirming Hermione's theory that he was battling with Past psychologically. She could only hope that their attack would distract Past enough to give Harry a chance. Harry was very pale, sweating and shaking, and by his side his fists were clenched so tightly that Hermione was surprised his wand hadn't snapped in two. Swallowing nervously, Hermione just hoped Harry could hear her.

"Harry, listen, you haven't got much time…"

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

Something was happening.

It started off as a low whisper, one that Harry, who's sobs had dissolved into a few hiccups, at first ignored. But it got louder, gradually, until it became a veritable wind, swirling around the infinite darkness where he was. Harry looked up, startled and slightly worried. "Hello?" he asked again, straining to see past the globe of light that surrounded him.

The whisperer did not answer him, but gradually got louder, as though trying to make him listen to what they had to say. But, try as he might, the words remained just out of reach to Harry, and the wind remained simply a noise.

"What are you saying?" he asked, getting to his feet now, curious and slightly irritated. "I can't hear you!"

Then suddenly the wind was gone and all that remained was the echo of his last word: "_You….. you…..you…_"

'_What the…?_'

Then something went straight through him.

Gasping in surprise and horror, Harry fell backwards as something pierced his chest. It rushed through him, filling his lungs, blood, eyes and his brain. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't see. He couldn't hear anything but an overwhelming roaring that went on and on. He couldn't move. He couldn't think.

But, finally, he could remember.

It was painful; he felt as though his eyes were going to be forced out of their sockets with the force of the whispers that were now retelling him his life. His head was aching, reforming neural pathways and synapses, emotions and feelings reintegrating themselves. His hands and legs were remembering how to play Quidditch, how to cast a spell, what it felt like to be subject to a basilisk bite. What cruciatus felt like.

Eventually the whispering stopped, leaving Harry huddled in a heap on the floor, gasping as he realised the terrible truth:

_He_ was Prongs jr.

The tears began to fall again as he remembered standing there, watching the ones he loved die and not realising who they were. Helpless as before, not remembering them and their deaths seemed to be more painful than if he had. The only real memory of his parents and he hadn't known who they were. He hadn't realised the significance of what he was seeing. He hadn't realised that _he_ was the one whose family had been ripped away from him that night.

It was getting brighter. Surprised, Harry looked up, blinking red rimmed eyes as he stared at the scene around him. He was back where he had started: the red eyes were right in front of him, but they seemed less focused on Harry now, slightly glazed over. And behind him were the memories he had just witnessed, playing out in slow motion. He could remember now what he couldn't before: that the eyes were not those of Voldemorts, but the eyes of 'Malfoy'.

'_I don't understand,_' thought Harry, turning around and frowning at the red orbs. '_What does it want? Why does it keep making me relive these memories?_' He looked down at his hand, which was, once again, bandaged, cut throbbing lightly underneath. _'Why does my hand always hurt near it? Does it want to torture me?_' He looked back at 'Malfoy', who still seemed distant, as though he was distracted by something else. '_But what would be the point?_'

"Harry… not much time…"

Harry jumped in shock, as the voice floated through the space. He knew that voice. "Hermione?" he called out, looking around for her, but she didn't seem to hear. Her voice carried on, traces of panic and worry laced in her words, but he could only catch fragments, as though she were speaking through an old muggle radio or from a very long distance.

"…Past… destroy you… grief…Sirius… to let go, Harry…or…die…"

"What?" Harry shouted, confused, but her voice was fading and suddenly 'Malfoy's' eyes snapped back into focus, the malevolence coming off them in waves. Harry couldn't look at them, stepping back in shock. No one had ever seemed to hate him as much as 'Malfoy' did… well, except possibly the real one and Voldemort – possibly Snape, too – with good cause, but why did this 'Malfoy' hate him so much? Was he a servant of Voldemorts'? Did Voldemort send him, Ron and Hermione back in time? Or was it something else?

Unable to find an answer, Harry turned his back on 'Malfoy's' eyes – with considerable effort, mind you – to stare at the three memories. He had wanted so much to stay in the past with Sirius and his mum and dad. To get to know them like he should have known them. He hadn't wanted to face the fact that they were gone, forever. That he would never know how they liked their coffees, what they did for a living, what they would have said when he and Ron crashed the flying car into the Whomping Willow (although he could probably guess that one). But that was before… well, whatever the hell that memory thing was.

Hadn't he vowed, as Harry watching Lily and James die, that he would remember their bravery and sacrifice for their son? He hadn't wanted them to go unforgotten for that. And what about Cedric and Sirius? Didn't they deserved to be remembered by him? He was the only one who had seen Cedric die after all. The only one who saw that had cared, in any case. And Sirius. Sirius had died to save him, protecting him, just like his mother and father had done. He deserved better than Harry turning his back on that, ignoring how much he cared.

A tear trickled down his cheek, which he wiped away stubbornly. First he was going to get out of here and then he was going to find Ron and Hermione and help them find a way to get home. The longer he stayed here the harder it would be to leave. And what about Ron and Hermione? And the Weasleys and Remus? Neville and Luna? They cared about him. He couldn't just forget about them. After all, Neville, Luna, Ron, Ginny and Hermione had all followed him to the Department of Mysteries. They had fought side by side with him. Staying here and forgetting about the people he had back in his own time would be as much a betrayal to them as it would be to Sirius, Cedric, Lily and James. Not to mention that he was the only one who could defeat Voldemort, once and for all. He was as good as murdering them himself by staying in the Past, trying to grab onto something that he would never get. And besides, who was he kidding? Did he honestly think he could sit by and watch the events of Halloween happen again? Read as Sirius got condemned to Azkaban, Pettigrew praised as a martyr?

Shooting one last glance over his shoulder at 'Malfoy', Harry took a deep breath and walked forward, back into the memories.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

"We're going to have to break down the door," hissed Remus, from behind him. James shot a look over at Hermione, who was staring fearfully up at the ceiling.

"But the owners will hear!" she pointed out, nervously.

"Doesn't matter," said James shortly, levelling his wand at the door. "Any unlocking charms I know aren't working and we need to get out there asap. Besides," he added, shooting a glance upwards, "we're going to need everyone we can get to distract that thing. Just because it can't kill us doesn't mean it can't come close."

The others all shifted nervously at that, but James didn't give them a chance to respond as he started counting down form three.

"3…2…1 – _REDUCTO_!"

The door exploded spectacularly, but even before the splinters had a chance to start falling he was out of the door, hearing running footsteps from behind him. He ran past Sirius, not stopping, although he looked dazed and in pain, past Harry, finishing behind Past wand ready for a spell. He heard Hermione give a vague yell to Ron, before he shouted out an incantation, wand held high.

"_Lumos Solaire!"_

In the sky above them was suddenly lit by a massive glowing orb. James blinked at the sudden change in light, sunspots racing across his vision quickly. They cleared quickly and he looked around him. Past didn't seem to be reacting at all, just sitting there. James couldn't be sure from the back, but Past seemed to tense suddenly. Looking around to the others he suddenly heard a massive cracking sound and his heart froze in panic. The upper level of Honeydukes was breaking up, bricks, plaster, wood and the sign beginning to fall, right over the place where a clueless Lily was still rubbing her eyes.

"Lily, watch out!" James heard Peter yell, horrified.

Peter's cry alerted Lily and she looked up in terror, launching herself backwards hurriedly, just as a pile of rubble crashed into the ground where she had been standing not that long ago. James was relieved to see her give herself a little shake and shoot off a spell: "_Reducto!"_

The spell hit Past, blasting a hole in one of it's arms, but still it did not move. Smoke rose in little curling tendrils from the wound and James saw, in horror, that it immediately began to heal itself. A small blur ran by Past: Hermione, charging over to Harry then throwing the invisibility cloak over them both, vanishing.

Past gave a livid roar, that made all the hairs on the back of James' neck stand up and, immediately, there came a surprised exclamation from Peter. James whipped his head around and his mouth dropped open in shock at what he saw.

Underneath Peter, the ground had began shaking, as though in an earth quake, the clearly frightened rat animagus on the floor, trying in vain to get up. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Remus racing towards Peter, who was now sinking into the ground as the ground turned into a thick mud. '_Holy Merlin!_' James suddenly realised, mouth still open in shock. Remus had reached Peter and was trying to pull him out, but the mud was spreading towards him. '_He may not be attacking us physically, but he's manipulating everything around us._'

"Lily, it's all him – all Past!" James yelled, frantically, trying to make Lily understand, even as Remus began to be pulled down too. Lily stared at him, seemingly frozen to the spot. '_Ugh, this is _impossible_!_' James thought, turning back to Past, wand raised. '_Maybe if I just try and confuse him, he'll loose grip on the mud thing and Harry, too._ He took a deep breath. "_Confundus!_"

The spell shot towards Past and bouced harmlessly off his black skin. There was still no sign of Sirius or Ron. '_Argh, come on, Potter! Think of _some_thing!_'

"JAMES!"

James jumped at Lily's shriek and stared up. A mountain of rubble was plummeting down towards him, gaining speed rapidly. He stared at it dumbly, falling as though in slow motion. He couldn't move, didn't think about leaping out of the way. The only thoughts he had were on Past and how Hermione was wrong.

Because Past was definitely rewriting history.

Starting with him.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

Ron and Sirius raced round the corner and skidded to a halt, frozen in astonishment. James was standing, staring in fearful astonishment up at a pile of rubble that was hovering a couple of centimetres above his head. Lily was stuck behind an equally large pile of rubble, mouth open in shock. Remus and Peter were also in that same frozen position, but, even stranger, they were half in the ground, clothes splattered with mud. Hermione and Harry were nowhere to be seen, presumably underneath the invisibility cloak. And Past…

Past was shrinking.

Ever so slowly, but he was definitely shrinking, all the while glaring even more forcefully at a spot someway in front of him. Already he had shrunk to the size of a small elephant as opposed to a large one. It was strange, Harry reflected, as he looked at the scene around him, how silent and still everything was. James, despite the still levitating wreckage above his head, had turned around to stare at 'Malfoy'. Peter and Remus, from where they were half sunken into the ground, had stopped trying to free themselves. Next to him, Hermione hadn't even noticed his sudden return to the living. She was too busy gaping at 'Malfoy'.

Rather tentatively, so as not to give any one a shock, Harry slowly pulled the invisibility cloak away from his and Hermione's head, the afore mentioned girl starting as her vision cleared.

"Harry?" she gasped, as though he had not been there before now. She broke into a watery smile. "Oh, Harry! I was so worried!" She launched herself forward, wrapping her arms around him so tightly that he was having trouble breathing. But he didn't say anything. Instead, he looked at 'Malfoy', down to the size of a large dog, glare just as fierce. '_I don't know what you want,,_' he said, silently, knowing that the beast could hear him, '_but I've chosen. And I want to thank you for making me realise where – or rather when – I want to be._'

'Malfoy' gave an astonished blink, before the glare was returned full throttle. '_**I'm so pleased you found peace, Potter**__,_' the beast drawled sarcastically, an almost silent whisper in Harry's head, '_**but you're only going to die the hard way now. Believe me. Back in the future, I'll be waiting for you.**_' And with one last hate filled snarl 'Malfoy' fizzled away into nothing.

Harry carried on staring at that spot, long after he had gone. He had forgotten that Hermione was still wrapped around him. He forgot the ominous promise that 'Malfoy' had made him. All he thought about was finally saying goodbye. Letting go of Sirius, James and Lily. Carrying on.

"Harry?" came a small voice and Harry looked up, blinking away unknowing tears, to see Ron standing in front of him, looking awkward. Going red as he realised Hermione was half in his lap, Harry pulled out of their embrace and looked at them both. Hermione had been crying quietly.

"Hi, 'Mione," he said, giving her a half-hearted smile. It was hard to speak when his throat seemed to be swelling up, a painful lump in his throat. It hurt even more to smile.

Ron walked forward and sat down next to them both, staring at Harry seriously. "Thought we'd lost you, mate," was all he said, looking relieved that wasn't the case.

Harry looked down at his shoes. He had been semi-ignoring Hermione and Ron for a few days now, trying to integrate Sirius into his life. They deserved better than that. He hadn't exactly been a good friend the past couple of days, brushing them off when all they were trying to do was help. His eyes were watering again. "I – I had to say goodbye," he whispered, hoarsely, a trickling out of his eye, down his cheek to splash on the earthy ground. "I couldn't… when I saw, I couldn't live through that again. I couldn't just forget them like that. And you." He looked up at his friends, who were looking at him in something other than pity: understanding. "I didn't want you two to go through what I'm feeling because I'm being an – an id-diot." The tears were flowing frequently now.

Hermione had started crying again, too. "Oh, Harry!" she cried, and drew him back into a hug. Harry stiffened at first, but soon let it all go, sobbing uncontrollably for the wrongs life had dealt him. He barely noticed when Ron, hesitantly at first, joined in, making a three way embrace between friends. '_It's exhausting, all this grief,_' Harry realised, after a couple of minutes. '_I've been carrying it around for so long that I hadn't even noticed. What is it everyone says? 'You should get on with your life and be happy. It's what they'd want.' I know Sirius now. That _is_ what he'd want me to do. And James and Lily – mum and dad. I can't keep kidding myself. People are there for me now. I can't ignore that, or I'll regret it later, when I'm all alone._

_Goodbye Sirius. Goodbye Mum. Goodbye Dad. I'll miss you, but I've got to get on with my life._'

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

Love,

Hannanora-Potter

~x~x~x~


	17. In which there is a lot of sleeping

**Title:** Time is a Healer

**Summary:** Harry, Ron and Hermione are suddenly and inexplicably thrown into the Marauders' sixth year at Hogwarts. Delighted with this chance to meet his parents and reunite with the recently deceased Sirius, Harry soon starts to cut his ties for the future, leaving Ron and Hermione seriously worried. And what's the monster that's starting to stalk Harry?

**Timeline and Spoilers:** Books 1 through 5, at the beginning of Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts (very beginning)

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and any related characters and setting are all the property of J.K. Rowling and not me.

**Extra:** '_blah_' = thoughts

This is **not** a new chapter. TiaH has been reformatted and chapters split up so that none of them are much over 10,000 words (the old chapter 13 was over 30,000 which is just ridiculous). The first **new** chapter is chapter 20. Enjoy!

_**Chapter Seventeen: In Which Everyone Does a Lot of Sleeping**_

Harry sifted nervously, staring at the wooden slates in front of him. Light filtered through the slates and briefly lit the room in which he was waiting. Beyond the hatch he could hear the hundreds of students as they screamed happily in anticipation.

'_It's odd,_' he thought, stomach twisting anxiously, '_that I'm getting so nervous over this. I mean, I've done this loads of times. Why am I so scared now? It's not like it's any different._

'_Except for the fact that this time – for the _first_ time – my parents are watching._'

"Hey, Harry," came a soft voice from just behind him. He turned around and grinned at Sirius, who was gripping his beaters bat in one hand and his broom in another. The form fitting Quidditch robes looked good on him and Harry was sure that the dog animagus was going to exploit that fully. But later. Right now his eyes only held concern. "You ok?"

The grin dropped a bit and Harry found himself shifting uncomfortably again. "Yeah, fine," he said, not quite meeting Sirius' eye.

Sirius raised a speculative eyebrow. "But…?"

Harry sighed and looked back to the hatch that was separating them from the rest of the school. "Well, what if I play terribly? Or… I dunno, fall off my broom something?" He turned back to Sirius. "I just couldn't handle disappointing them."

Sirius rolled his eyes and whacked Harry on the back of the head.

Considering that Sirius was much taller than him and was an exceptionally strong beater and hitting him with a _bat_, no less, it came as no particular surprise to Harry as stars danced across his vision.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, scowling as he stumbled forward slightly. The scowl only deepened as he noticed Sirius' inane grin. "What the bloody hell was that for?" he growled, rubbing the back of his head. "I'm bearing my soul and you just decided to beat me up? And before a game, no less?"

"Harry, I've been to the Quidditch World Cup every year since I can remember," Sirius said, smiling happily at his pained Godson, "and I can quite honestly say that you are the best Seeker I have ever seen in my life." Harry turned bright red. "Besides, James and Lily are going to be proud of you no matter what."

"Thanks, Sirius," said Harry, quietly, smiling at the Marauder. Both turned back to face the front again.

"Besides, if you fall off your broom again, I'll kill you."

Harry snorted but refrained from pointing out that as James had lent him his state of the art broomstick (therefore, unlikely to collapse beneath him) falling off his broomstick was the last thing he would be doing. Instead he sighed and once again tried to calm his nerves. Merlin, it seemed like such a long time since that battle with Past in Hogsmeade and he felt like such a completely different person. Not that the journey to recovery had been easy. But, then again, nothing was ever easy at Hogwarts.

Just look at the crazy stuff they had to deal with the very next morning!

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

Lily Evans was most decidedly a morning person. Unable to sleep when the sun was up, she often dragged her fellow room mates out of bed so she could have some company at breakfast. Said room mates were less than happy about this arrangement, often ending up in a stupor, blinking slowly at their porridge and wondering what in Merlin's name they were doing up so early in the morning. If they were awake enough, such thoughts were often accompanied by vague plans of revenge on the irrepressibly awake Lily Evans. So, you could understand the confusion of Alice Casey and Marlene McKinnon when, on Monday morning, the red head was still asleep when they woke up.

Marlene woke first, automatically growling, "Go _away_, Lily!" It was only after she had yanked the duvet back over her head that she realised there was no one tugging on her bed or chirping back at her. The dorm was completely quiet, excepting Alice's little snores.

Surprised, Marlene sat bolt upright in her bed, staring around the room in shock, brown hair in a mess after a long nights sleep. Marlene had light, dark chocolate coloured hair which, whilst it could be slinky and shiny, had an annoying habit to go incredibly static in the morning, making her appear as though she had survived a direct lightning strike. Her eyes were the same colour as her hair and, coupled with a naturally tanned complexion, gave her the appearance of a Spanish beauty, with long black eye lashes and naturally pouting lips. Completely oblivious to the admiring looks she got, Marlene was a Quidditch fanatic and the Gryffindor keeper for the second year running.

Marlene's gaze drifted over to Lily's bed, wondering if it was one of those rare days when Lily went to breakfast ahead of them. But she could catch a glimpse of red hair poking out from underneath the mass of covers so the prefect was still there. And the sun was shining so brightly that it was hurting her eyes. So no mistaking the fact that it was very definitely morning.

'_This is very weird,_' she thought, crawling to the end of her bed and walking over to peer at Lily, frowning down at the jumble of girl and covers. The jumble shifted slightly, destroying any possibility that she had died or that it was just a mass of pillows. '_Huh._'

Still wrapped in her own duvet, Marlene rambled over to Alice's bed. The blond haired girl was fast asleep, making her usual snuffling snores, and curled up on one side.

"Alice," Marlene whispered, shaking Alice's shoulder gently. "Alice, wake up!"

"FOR THE LAST TIME, LILY, SOD OFF – I WANT TO STAY IN BED!" roared Alice suddenly, surging upwards, and scaring Marlene so much that she gave a small shriek and fell backwards, landing heavily on the floor.

"Ow! Alice!" exclaimed Marlene, giving her sore posterior a rub. "Be careful who you go all psycho on!"

Alice, whose angry gaze was blinked away into one of confusion when she saw no Lily, started and looked down at her friend, who was glaring at her from the floor.

"Marly, Merlin, I am _so_ sorry!" she exclaimed, clambering out of bed and giving the other girl a hand up. "I thought it was Lily!"

"I would never have guessed," Marlene said, dryly, collecting her duvet. "And, believe me, I would love to see that play out, but…" She trailed off, grabbed Alice's hand and dragged her over to Lily's bed. "She appears to be asleep."

Alice's goldfish look was incredibly amusing, as she alternated between staring at Lily and gaping at Marlene. "But – but," she spluttered, finally, "she never – I mean, sunshine! – look, day time!"

"Yeah, I was pretty shocked, too," interrupted Marlene, smiling at her friend.

"Do you think she's ill?" asked Alice fretfully, staring at Marlene with worried blue eyes. "I mean, she's never slept in before – _and_ it's a school day!"

"I dunno," said Marlene truthfully, staring down at the red head. "Maybe she _is_ ill. And she did go to bed _really_ early last night."

"Do you think we should wake her?" asked Alice. "She'll go mad if she's late for classes."

Marlene grinned evilly. "Why not?" she agreed, eyes lighting up at the prospect of revenge. "You never know, someone might have finally answered our prayers!" and she cackled menacingly.

Alice backed away from her slightly, although her eyes, too, had lit up at the notion of 'revenge'. "Oookay, Marly, calm down. We can't do anything too drastic if she's ill."

Marlene's shoulders drooped. "Damn, you're right." She sighed. "Oh well." And she gently shook Lily on the shoulder. "Lily, you have to get up."

No response.

Alice and Marlene exchanged looks. This didn't look like it was going to be easy.

"Maybe you should try and shock her out of it," suggested Alice.

Marlene stared at her in shock. "What, with lightning – or that muggle thing, eccletricity? Are you crazy?"

Alice blushed and hit Marlene on the arm. "Don't be an idiot. I mean, like telling her she's missed the first lesson or something," she corrected. "Sometimes people can hear stuff like that in their sleep and they react to it."

Marlene raised a speculative eyebrow, but turned back to Lily anyway. "Hey, Lily, you've missed the first lesson! Wake up!"

When Lily didn't react to that either, Marlene turned and stared at Alice, eyebrow raised once more. Although she went a little pink, Alice shrugged and said, "Maybe something more extreme?"

_Five minutes later…_

"LILY! Holy Merlin, you've just missed double potions – Groll is furious and she's petitioning the Headmaster to have you _expelled_!"

Alice sniggered, catching Marlene's eye, who grinned at her. '_You know, I don't think that this should be that fun,_' Alice thought vaguely, as she tried to stop herself laughing. '_I mean she could be seriously ill._' But it was strangely hard to stop now they had gotten into it and she just couldn't wait to see Lily's face if she _did_ wake up. "Oh, that was a good one, Marly! Wait, I've got another one," and she turned to the oblivious Lily. "Lily, shit, wake UP! Professor McGonagall is down stairs and she's going to take your prefect badge away because you were seen kissing Severus Snape in a broom closet instead of doing your rounds!"

Marlene burst into laughter at that, clutching her side. Alice joined in, almost loosing it at the end of her speech, but still Lily didn't move. Suddenly Marlene stopped laughing, her eyes lighting up in inspiration. "Merlin, I've just thought of the best one!" she exclaimed, grinning at Alice evilly. "If she doesn't wake up with this one, then there's something seriously wrong."

Alice stared at her, curious. "What – " she began, but Marlene cut her off with a knowing smile. "You'll see."

Turning to Lily, Marlene let out a shriek of pure astonishment and clasped her face dramatically. "Lily – what the…? Why is _James Potter_ in your bed? And _naked_?!"

Alice and Marlene broke into screams of laughter, hysterical tears trickling down their faces. Eventually, though, both girl's calmed down, though it was made difficult by Marlene, who kept breaking into little snorts which sent Alice off again. But finally they ended up staring worriedly at Lily, who hadn't moved an inch since they had started. They exchanged glances.

"Do you think we should get Madam Pomfrey?" asked Alice, hesitantly. If Lily was really just asleep – heavily – then neither she nor the irritable nurse would be very happy about it. She glanced at her watch. "It's twenty to eight already. If she doesn't get up soon then she really will – "

"Bloody hell!" Marlene exclaimed, suddenly, staring at a point a little behind Alice's shoulder. "How the heck is _she_ still asleep?"

Turning round to see who Marlene could possibly mean, Alice gasped in astonishment as she saw another bundle of unmoving duvets behind her. A leg and an arm were poking out, brown, bushy hair sprawled over a white pillow, Granger's face almost hidden by it's tangled curls. Alice felt slightly guilty over how they had forgotten about the exchange student, but then again, it had just been her, Marlene and Lily for five years. But what was even more strange was that she was fast asleep, not moving, exactly the same as Lily. Alice frowned.

"Maybe they've both got this illness… whatever it is," she said, turning to look back at Marlene.

"Yeah," Marlene agreed, looking at the other girl. "We don't know her as well as Lily, but she's nearly always been up and out of here before Lily's even woken us up. If it were possible, she's more of a morning person than our Evans, here."

"Although, she was still up when we went to bed," Alice pointed out. "She really could just be tired."

Marlene raised a highly sceptical eyebrow. "What? With us yelling and screaming at Lily for the past five minutes?" She shook her head. "I don't think so. We could have woken a deaf man with that show. Actually, I'm surprised that no one's come in to ask us what was going on."

Alice glanced pointedly at her watch. "Well, it _is_, as I said, a quarter to eight. Breakfast is nearly over."

Marlene groaned as her stomach gave a particularly loud rumble. "Great, just what we need. Well, we'll grab some toast and dash back here and try and wake Lily up," she decided, grabbing her school cloak and pulling it over her burgundy pyjamas. There wasn't enough time to change into full school uniform.

Alice was staring at her, aghast. Rolling her eyes, Marlene reached over and flung another cloak at Alice. "Come on, Alice," she wheedled. "It's not like we're going to be there long. And who's going to be able to see through our robes, anyway?" Sighing, Alice pulled her robes over her blue and pink pyjamas, running a hand through her blond hair.

"You know, we should talk to the Marauders cause they were who Granger was sitting with last night," commented Marlene thoughtfully, as she absent mindedly pulled on a pair of fluffy bunny slippers. "Plus, what's his face – Ron Wesley. Maybe they gave her and Evans something, cause I saw her talking to them too. And if they have…" She let the sentence trail off threateningly. Truth be told she wasn't completely sure what she would do to five boys, two of which played Quidditch and two who looked like they should, all of them experts in jinxes and hexes and various ways to bespell you. Then again, she could always just aim low…

"Come on, Alice," said Marlene impatiently, wishing her hair wasn't quite as static as it was. She was hungry. "Let's go."

Alice looked at her dubiously. "Are you sure?" she asked, glancing at Marlene uncertainly.

Marlene rolled her eyes. "Yes, of course," she said, slightly snappishly, lunging forward and grabbing Alice's arm, dragging her out of the room. "Now, come on."

Alice glowered at her friends' back. "Well, then, I hope you don't mind the entire student population seeing your pink bunny slippers," she muttered under her breath, giving Marlene's back an evil grin as she was forcibly dragged to the Great Hall.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

The Great Hall at breakfast was the quietest of meal times. The majority of students felt that getting up so early – and for _learning_, no less – was a crime and ought to be punishable somehow. They sat, miserably eating porridge or chewing toast, as they blearily tried to make sense of why, in Merlin's name, the world hated them so much to deem they had to be awake at this hour of the morning. They tended to scowl angrily at anyone too chirpy or making too much noise. Surprisingly enough, most of the teachers seemed to fit into this category. Then there were the students that hadn't done homework due in for the first lesson of the day and were frantically scribbling down what they could in the seconds to spare. It was quite fortunate for them that the teachers were quite firmly entombed in the first category, because all they could manage was a weak glare at aforementioned students. Then there were those _extremely_ rare people who were extremely awake and much too chipper in the morning for everyone else. This group mainly consisted of Lily Evans, The Marauders minus Peter (who tended to be in the middle category), Professor Dumbledore and a few first and second years for whom the novelty of magical education had not yet worn off. Alice and Marlene were most decidedly in the dead-on-your-feet-and-not-too-happy-about-it category.

So when they bounded into the Great Hall, looking as though they had voluntarily downed three bowls of raw coffee, they received more than a few stares.

"What in Merlin's names' wrong with you?" asked a bleary eyed fifth year, who took a break from glowering at his toast to stare as wide eyed as he could manage at the two sixth year girls. "And where is Ms. Chirp?"

Ms. Chirp was Gryffindor's name for Evans that early in the morning. It seemed that Gryffindor House was the house that most of the happy-about-being-awake people were in. Far from being offended, Marlene and Alice took no notice of the nickname. In fact, they were the ones who had started it. Alice sighed to herself. '_We certainly weren't very good at insults in first year – Lily even _likes_ that one. Oh well, too late to change it now._'

"She's asleep," said Marlene casually, as she reached for a piece of toast. Alice rolled her eyes as nearly everyone on their table dropped what they were doing to gape at them. Marlene had a definite flair for dramatics and knew just how to make an impact.

"What?" chorused a fair few people, making some other houses give them funny looks.

Marlene shrugged, a smile playing about her lips even if she was worried for her friend. "Yeah, that was pretty much our reaction too."

"You didn't drug her or anything, did you?" asked a seventh year, suspiciously. It was well known how much Marlene and Alice disliked being pulled out of bed everyday.

Alice and Marlene both looked extremely indignant at this. "Of course not!" Alice exclaimed, affronted. "She's our friend – we've put up with it for five years, why not for the next two?"

"Oh, and speaking of poison…" Marlene craned her neck to look down the table. "Anyone seen the Marauders?"

There was a lot of muttering and head turning at this. "I… well, I don't think so," spoke up the fifth year who they had spoken to first. "And I, rather unfortunately, have been here for most of breakfast."

"When I came down they were all in their dorm," offered Frank Longbottom, a seventh year Gryffindor. Alice, who had a small crush on the prefect, blushed slightly, but for once Marlene didn't tease her about it. "I popped in to get back a book Remus borrowed from me and they were all sound asleep."

Marlene and Alice exchanged uneasy glances. It was beginning to sound like a bug of some sorts. '_Either that or a mass enchantment. A potion? Snivellus hates them and he's better than Groll at potions,_' thought Alice, biting her lip. She could tell Marlene was thinking along the same lines.

"What?" asked Frank, frowning as he caught the two glancing uneasily at each other. Most of the table was watching now, curious. Marlene raised her eyebrows at Alice, asking permission. Refraining from rolling her eyes, Alice sighed and nodded, turning towards her – as of yet – uneaten porridge. Her ears and her attention, however, were strained towards Marly and Gryffindor's reaction.

"Well, we've tried everything to wake Lily," Marlene was explaining, in her usual dramatic fashion. Out of the corner of her eye, Alice had to repress a grin as she caught her friends' arms waving dramatically. "And I mean _everything_, short of throwing a bucket of water on her. And then we noticed that Granger – Hermione, that exchange kid, you know? – was sound asleep, too, and with all the racket we'd been making she'd have had to be _dead_ not to wake up." Alice found that her eyes needed to be rolled here. Marlene had a _slight_ tendency to exaggerate. "And she was talking to the Marauders last night – and so did Lily. So maybe they've all been poisoned or are _ill_ or… well, that's about it, we don't really know."

There was a slight silence after this. Alice looked up, her porridge bowl remaining as full as before. Most of the table was frowning thoughtfully, though some of the younger years were looking worried. And who could blame them? The Marauders were the idols of the younger years and they all looked up to the magic four with reverence – '_not totally undeserved,_' Alice thought, though she would never admit that to Lily. She could sympathise with Lily's arguments, but they certainly made each day go by quicker. And she could _not_ understand why Lily was so annoyed about Potter asking her out – was the girl _blind_?

"Maybe we should get them all together and try some spells or… I don't know, actually chuck a bottle of water at them?" suggested a fourth year girl timidly.

Marlene brightened up. "Actually, that's not a bad idea," she commented, smiling at the mousy haired girl. "Besides, if they _are_ sick then it will be easier to get them to the Hospital Wing if we all help." She made a face. "Don't know about you, Alice, but I don't feel like taking eight unconscious teenagers down six flights of stairs to find a bottle of water would have done the trick."

Alice wasn't too sure about Marlene's 'plan', mainly because she wasn't too sure how Lily – let alone the _Marauders_ – would react to being woken up with a bucket of water in their face, but she didn't get a chance to point this out as all the Gryffindors gave a small cheer of agreement before storming back to Gryffindor tower in an enthusiastic stampede. It wasn't too long before Alice was the only one left on Gryffindor table, staring after the disappearing crowd with her mouth open. Realising that that was exactly what the other three houses – and the teachers – were doing, made Alice turn bright red and she hurriedly stumbled from her seat and ran after them, feeling the eyes of several hundred students on her back.

"Alice! Wait!"

Not the only person left on Gryffindor table then. Frank Longbottom ran over to her, grinning at her in a way that made her stomach go all squirmy. She went even redder. Coming to a halt in front of her, Frank continued to grin. "Seems like I'm not the only one who has doubts about this well thought out plan," he told her, grin turning into a slight smirk. "Willing to place a bet on which set will hex us faster – Lily or the Marauders?"

Alice managed a weak smile at this. "Well, I suggest we keep well back from them and let Marlene be in front. That way she's only herself to blame when she has to spend a week in the Hospital Wing."

Frank grinned again. "Well, I suppose we should at least try and keep order. I'm not really too sure what hormone driven teenage girls are going to do when we present James and Sirius in their pyjamas."

Alice blushed bright red and couldn't think of a reply to _that_ except to possibly move faster. "Good point," she mumbled and they both began to pelt down the corridors to get to Gryffindor Tower.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

"This is not good, not good at all."

Marlene sighed and shook her head at the eight sixth years in their baffling dilemma. They had tried everything they could. They had all started with the non-magical suggestions. Whereas Lily or Hermione hadn't woken with just Alice and Marlene shrieking at her, Marlene had hoped that one hundred odd students yelling at the top of their lungs might have made a difference. All that had resulted from that, however, was everyone got ringing in their ears and were unable to communicate without yelling at each other for about 10 minutes. They had tried giving them a gentle shake. Unsurprisingly, there had been rather a lot of volunteers to wake the Marauders this way, for whereas Marlene had instructed the two seventh year girls who had fetched down Hermione and Lily to wrap them in their school cloaks to spare their dignity, she had said nothing of the sort to the various boys who got the Marauders. Surprisingly, nearly all the boys were fully clothed... with one exception. There was quite a lot of happy squeals as it soon became apparent that James Potter only slept in his boxers and Marlene was exceptionally happy to be told by Anna – the second year girl with a photography obsession – that, for making this possible, she could get a free copy of all the photographs she was taking. Already the small girl had made 13 galleons on promised photograph sales.

The shaking, alas, had not worked, although Anna had managed to get a brilliant photo of a frustrated fifth year girl whacking Sirius over the head with a fluffy, pink rabbit– and the subsequent photo of one Sirius Black automatically cuddling up to the teddy in his sleep. The term 'blackmail' had crossed Marlene's mind more than once.

Although sorely tempted by the bucket of water plan, Marlene had not used it yet, because she didn't think Madam Pomfrey would be too pleased if they really were ill and turned up to the infirmary soaking wet. So, rather reluctantly, she had moved on to magical means of wakening her comatose year mates. The enervate charm had been used first as it was the simplest, but to no avail. The red jets hit their intended targets accurately but didn't raise a reaction out of any of the Sixth years except to make Sirius snuggle into his rabbit more. After enervate had been used, the Gryffindors were a bit stumped, to tell the truth. They had rather half-heartedly performed one jinx or another on various sleepers but even more curious was the fact that although each of the spells hit the teenager in question it didn't have any effect. It just seemed to dissipate into their chests. That was _certainly_ not meant to happen.

The Gryffindors had now broken up into various discussions of which potion could be responsible, whether it was a new kind of magical flu and some first years were actually rather hysterically wondering when their funerals would be. Ignoring the silly wails, Marlene made her way over to Alice and Frank who had watched all the proceedings from a corner of the common room silently. At her not-so-melodramatic statement, both looked uneasy.

"I think we should take them to Madam Pomfrey," said Alice, looking worriedly at Lily, who was now curled into the foetal position. "We really _have_ tried everything we're capable of now. And what's happening when they get hit by jinxes…" she shook her head, eyes wide. "Well, it's just not heard of, is it?"

Frank nodded solemnly, staring at the eight lifeless teens. Squinting his eyes a little, he remarked, "Actually, they all look like they've been in a fight – see all those scratches on Lily, James and Remus? Not to mention that massive rip on Sirius shirt and the fact that James' hair is full of rubble."

Both Marlene and Alice had frowned at that and immediately looked over at the eight. '_How could I have missed that?_' Marlene thought, scrutinising James hair. It certainly was full of brick dust and chips of cement. Sirius had been on his back to begin with and had only just now shifted onto his front, clearly displaying the large tear in the fabric for all to see.

Out of the corner, Marlene caught Alice's miserable shrug. "Either way," she began, looking slightly teary, "it's out of our hands now. We should just – "

"And what, in Merlin's name, do you lot _think_ you are doing?"

The voice was quite quiet, actually, but having lived with it for six years, Alice and Marlene had picked up an extra sense for that voice. Especially when it had that particular tone to it. Even the first years, who had only been in Hogwarts for a few weeks, knew to freeze fearfully whenever that voice carried across to them. Chatter and debates died away immediately, as if the sound had been cut off. Marlene wagered that it would have actually looked quite funny, as every single Gryffindor turned – as though in slow motion – to face one Professor Minerva McGonagall, Transfiguration Teacher, Deputy Headmistress, Head of Gryffindor House, if she didn't happen to represent their imminent doom.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

Professor McGonagall was absolutely _livid._

She had been sitting in her classroom, for almost an _hour_, waiting for her third year Gryffindor class to show up. At first she had not really noticed the time racing past. Not wanting to appear as though all she did was sit there waiting for students to turn up for her to teach – although this class did not hold any of the Marauders she did not want any of the younger students to get any ideas – she had started marking some seventh year NEWT essays before the bell rang, just as she always did. Even as the first bell rang for lessons, she did not stop, though she did frown a little at the lack of noise. Rolling her eyes – in a way that was very unlike her – she figured that they would be late, just as they always were on a Monday morning. So she decided to carry on marking, as why waste time when it was handed to her, but ready to glare ferociously as soon as her class decided to turn up.

Professor McGonagall was halfway through a particularly well written essay when she got her first interruption. An extremely angry Professor Grollingsworth had stormed into her classroom, banging her door open without even the decent courtesy to knock first, and immediately began yelling about her sixth year Gryffindor's potions class.

"MINERVA! I have had it up to _here_ with your infernal – oh," she stopped, mid-rant, to gaze around the Transfiguration classroom with an evil smirk. "The little buggers haven't shown up to _your_ lesson, either, I see."

It was only then that Professor McGonagall realised that it was forty five minutes into her first lesson and not a single Gryffindor had turned up. This so threw McGonagall that, for a couple of seconds, all she could do was blink at the row upon row of empty seats. "I do beg your pardon?"

Hilda Grollingsworth's smirk grew. "Your sixth year Gryffindors are missing from my potions class," she informed the Deputy Head Mistress snootily, crossing her stick like arms over her chest. "All the Slytherins have turned up – like the good, capable, _dependable_ students that they are – and there is not a single unreliable, scatty, rude – "

"Yes, yes, Hilda, I get your point," Professor McGonagall cut her off, snappishly, and rising to her feet. "No need to be so rude about it. I do not need your input when thinking up scathing words to describe this appalling behaviour of my house. I will – "

"Oh, hello, Minerva!" came another voice, and both Professor McGonagall and Grollingsworth looked down to see tiny Professor Flitwick standing in the open doorway, smiling at them. "Just the person I was looking for – I'm very glad you've got a free period." He ignored, or did not notice, Professor McGonagall's darkened expression at this, and continued. "It's just that I'm supposed to be taking first year Gryffindors for charms at the moment and… well, there doesn't seem to be any."

Hilda Grollingsworth was looking even more delighted at this and Professor McGonagall found herself restraining the need to bash her head against the wall. '_What in Merlin's name is going on with my house?_' She vaguely recalled the entire table storming out at breakfast in one large crowd, but had forgotten about it as she suddenly remembered about various administrative tasks she had forgotten to do last night and had rushed off soon after her house to finish them before class began.

Before Professor McGonagall could reply to Professor Flitwick, Professor's Kettleburn and Vector raced in, tripping over the aforementioned Charms teacher as they chanted, "Minerva! Our fourth year Gryffindors are – argh!"

"Missing?" enquired Hilda, raising an eyebrow delighted.

"Sorry, Filius!" apologised Kettlburn gruffly as he pulled the tiny teacher to his feet.

"Yes!" exclaimed Vector, answering Hilda's questioning. She gazed enquiringly at Hilda and then at Flitwick. "Surely you don't mean to say…"

"Yes!" echoed Hilda, grinning happily. "Not turned up to ours either – or Minerva's here, either," she added.

The recent arrivals stared at Professor McGonagall in astonishment.

"You don't think they're ill, do you?" asked Professor Vector nervously, twisting a strand of her brown hair around a finger.

"They looked fine at breakfast!" Hilda Grollingsworth quashed that one gleefully. Professor McGonagall was itching to slap the woman by this point, all the more so because she couldn't think of anything to say in defence of her house.

There was the sound of clattering feet outside and a seventh year Hufflepuff ran into the room. "Professor McGonagall," he started, before coming to a stop, staring at all the teachers around him. "Ooh… er…"

"Yes, what is it, Trevers?" McGonagall snapped. She was not in the mood to be pleasant and, besides, the boy hadn't even paused to knock. Where had simple manners gone these days?

"Er… Professor Martins sent me, Professor," Trevers stated, trying to ignore all the teachers staring at him. Professor Martins was the new defence teacher for this year. He seemed to be alright, actually, and was at least teaching the students _something_, although he seemed a bit wishy washy to her. He had already sent no less than thirteen students in the past week and a half asking for her advice on this and that. She didn't have time to deal with that and if he asked then she would send Trevers back with a very rude answer. However, as she sighed and flapped an arm at him to continue, she had a sinking feeling that she already knew what the Hufflepuff was going to say. "You see, we've got double defence with the Gryffindors now and – "

"None of them have turned up," chorused the band of professors, Professor McGonagall doing so rather miserably. She was going to _kill_ her house.

Trevers looked at the Professors wide eyed. "How do you know that?" he asked, rather astonished.

"Because none of them have turned up to our lessons, either," cackled – literally – Hilda, sweeping a hand to include everyone. "None of them seem to have turned up to any of their lessons at all!"

Wanting to groan – but feeling it was beneath her – McGonagall snapped at Hilda. "You don't know that _none_ of them have turned up to _any_ of their lessons – we still don't know about the second and fifth years," she replied, annoyed, because undoubtedly Trevers would tell his housemates and Merlin knew, Hufflepuffs were some of the worst gossipers in the school, just as a gasping Ravenclaw fifth year raced into the room.

"Sorry to bother you, Professor McGonagall…and, er, co," Stacey Grey added, spotting the rather large population of professors in the classroom. "Professor Sprout sent me to inform you that none of the Gryffindors – "

This time Professor McGonagall cut her off before the others could chorus the rest her sentence, finally giving in to her groan. "Thank you, Stacey, you can go."

Stacey stared at Professor McGonagall in confusion. "But I haven't told you – " she protested.

"What, that none of the Gryffindors have turned up to their Herbology lesson?" Hilda put in her two pennies, in a rather sickly sweet voice. For the first time since completing her animagus transformation, Minerva McGonagall fervently wished she wasn't a cat. Or, rather, that she was a lion or a tiger instead of a domestic house cat, because Hilda Grollingsworth was really getting on her nerves. She didn't think a cat would really do much damage to the potions Professor whereas a lion…

Stacey was all ready to echo Trevers' earlier question when McGonagall snapped, "Just go, Grey – and you, too, Trevers." Her expression darkened when both of them hesitated. "And rest assured, tell your respective Professors that I will _deal_ with my house."

Both of them gulped and raced out the classroom, but they weren't quite out of range when Stacey began to ask Trevers what was going on. The urge to bash her head against the wall was returning so McGonagall focused on the only good thing: no one had come to her about the second years yet. She voiced this out loud. "Well, at least no one seems to be missing the second years," she began, sounding forcefully cheerful, when Filius cut her off.

"Actually, my dear Professor," he pointed out, "I noticed earlier that the second year Gryffindors have History of Magic with Professor Binns today and… well, to be fair, I don't really think the man would notice if his class didn't turn up. He'd just carry on anyway." He cocked his head to one side, watching Minerva worriedly as her expression froze. "I do think it would be wise to assume that they are also missing?"

So, here she was, standing in the common room of Gryffindor House, watching her missing students _chat._ Yes, that's right, chat. She had been praying – in a sort of twisted, but redeemable way – that her entire house had been struck ill. Or that Slytherins had pranked the lot of them so she could turn around and punish the whole of Slytherin house. Usually she was very fair but Hilda Grollingsworth had wound her up _soo_ much that she didn't particularly care at that moment.

But, no. The whole reason as to why Hilda Grollingsworth would be gleefully telling an extremely truthful – what need was there to be bias in this case? – tale about Gryffindor was because they all apparently felt such a strong urge to gossip that they had to miss all their first classes and humiliate her in front of her colleagues. I repeat: Professor McGonagall was _livid._

"And what, in Merlin's name, do you lot _think_ you are doing?"

She was struggling to keep her voice calm and level as everyone froze, slowly turning around to face their infuriated Head of House. Their terrified – yet _confused_ – expressions did nothing to sate Professor McGonagall's rage. She didn't trust herself to speak as they stared at each other, students facing Head of House.

"Oh, bloody hell!" exclaimed McKinnon suddenly, smacking herself in the forehead. "Look at the time – it's almost second lesson!" She suddenly stared at her Head of House with wide brown eyes and, quite audibly, gulped.

Professor McGonagall lost it.

"ONE HOUR! I HAVE BEEN WAITING IN MY BLOODY CLASSROOM FOR AN _HOUR_! ONE WHOLE HOUR! I HAVE HAD TEACHERS COME TO ME FROM ALL OVER THE SCHOOL TO ASK WHY THEIR STUDENTS ARE NOT IN CLASS! WHAT THE HELL IS _WRONG_ WITH YOU? IT IS NOT AS IF THE SCHOOL BELL IS A QUIET SOUND, ONE YOU HAVE TO STRAIN TO HEAR! IT SEEMS TO BE LOUD ENOUGH TO RAISE ALL THE HUFFLEPUFFS, RAVENCLAWS AND _SLYTHERINS,_ FOR MERLIN'S SAKE, BUT, OH NO, NOT THE GRYFFINDORS! ARE YOU ALL INCAPABLE OF HEARING – OR, FAILING THAT, READING THE TIME? SOMETHING SEVEN YEAR OLDS HAVE NO DIFFICULTY IN DOING, BUT YOU – SOME OF YOU _EIGHTEEN_ YEAR OLDS – ARE FINDING IT DIFFICULT!"

Professor McGonagall paused for breath; her voice echoing around the common room in a way that it shouldn't have considering that every single Gryffindor was occupying it. Or _nearly_ every Gryffindor… Professor McGonagall's eyes narrowed considerably.

"And where, may I ask, are the Marauders?" she asked, voice deadly.

Everyone here exchanged fearful glances, glancing both behind them and over to McKinnon and Casey who had gone slightly pale. Now, it wasn't like Professor McGonagall to jump to conclusions, but then, in all her life, Professor McGonagall could not remember being quite as angry as she had been now and she _had_ lived with the Marauders at her school for over five years. Looking back, she wasn't really sure how she could _not_ have jumped to the conclusion that she did.

"THAT'S _IT_!" she bellowed, fists clenched so tightly that her bones actually creaked, though the sound was lost under her rage. "I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THOSE BOYS! AND YOU, GRYFFINDORS, COVERING FOR THEM! AND YOU PREFECTS, TOO! I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO DISGUSTED WITH MY HOUSE IN MY ENTIRE LIFE! AS SOON AS GRYFFINDOR GETS ENOUGH POINTS I'M GOING TO TAKE OFF FIVE HUNDRED POINTS!" She ignored the horrified gasps at this – and her own slightly guilty feelings – instead beginning to charge forward through the students. "WHERE ARE THEY, THEN? I'M GOING TO _KILL_ THEM!"

Too terrified to say anything, the students flocked out of Professor McGonagall's way like scared rabbits, as she continued on her rampaging war path. '_This time they've gone too far!_' she thought murderously. '_Disgracing the name of Gryffindor House to the rest of the school! I'll never be able to look Hilda Grollingsworth in the eye again, that conniving evil troll!_'

So absorbed in her dark thoughts was Professor McGonagall that she didn't notice her quarry until she tripped over them, stumbling into Frank Longbottom, who caught her arm as she fell. Snapping her head around to see what annoyance had tripped her up – Minerva McGonagall was _not_ one who tripped – she found herself staring down a line of unconscious sixth years. Her mouth dropped open.

"Wh-What is going _on_?" she spluttered, completely baffled.

Again the crowd of Gryffindors shifted awkwardly, looking over to McKinnon and Casey, who had pushed their way forward in her wake. Narrowing her eyes as she caught sight of the two perpetrators, Minerva stood up straight and _glared_ at them. "I repeat: what, pray, is going on?"

Both girls went bright pink, but Professor McGonagall was not known for her mercy. She carried on staring at them expectantly. "We can't wake them, Professor," McKinnon spluttered eventually. She wouldn't meet her eyes. "And we've tried everything."

Professor McGonagall found her anger being replaced with incredulity. She looked again at the unconscious/sleeping sixth years on the floor, before snapping her gaze back at the two girls. "You can't wake them," she repeated, icily. The girls exchanged nervous looks. "And you thought it would be fun to involve the rest of Gryffindor House in HAVING FUN AND HUMILIATING THE POOR CHILDREN, WHEN THEY COULD ALL BE ILL! YOU STUPID, _STUPID_ GIRLS!"

She ignored the mix of sniggers and tears coming from the rest of the House and just honed in on her victims. McKinnon was looking rather desperate now. "We were going to take them to the Hospital Wing right before you came in, Professor," she said, wailing. "But we didn't want to bother Madam Pomfrey for something that wasn't serious or… or…" She trailed off, visibly gulping as Professor McGonagall just continued _glaring_ at her.

"MARLENE McKINNON!" she roared finally, making even her own ears ring with the volume of her voice. She felt herself shaking with rage. She could never remember being so angry before in her life – and Professor Minerva McGonagall could not be said to have a sweet temperament. "I HAVE NEVER – _NEVER_ – BEEN SO ASHAMED – NO, _DISGUSTED_ – WITH A SINGLE STUDENT BEFORE IN MY ENTIRE LIFE! AND YOU TOO, MISS CASEY!" she added, snapping at Alice. "BOTH OF YOU WAIT HERE WHILST I TAKE THESE STUDENTS TO THE HOSPITAL WING – THE REST OF YOU, GET TO YOUR CLASSES BEFORE I PUT YOU IN DETENTION FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE!"

She stopped, breathing heavily and glaring at the dumbstruck students. Quite a few of the first and second years were starting to cry, but she was currently too angry to care. Resisting the urge to carry on yelling at her still statuesque students, she strode over to the unconscious sixth years and pulled out her wand. She couldn't refrain from a derisive snort as the nearest students flinched back visibly. "_Mobilicorpus_!" she intoned, flicking her wand at the sleeping students.

Nothing happened.

McGonagall stopped astonished. All 8 students remained where they were, unconscious on the floor. They didn't even stir. Aware her students were staring at her, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and tried again. "_Mobilicorpus_!" Again, nothing happened.

"What's going on?" she asked, astonished. If it weren't for the fact that she couldn't call to mind a single potion or spell that could absorb magical effects, she would have half suspected a joke.

"That's what's been happening, no matter what the spell we throw at them," came Alice's voice from behind her. "Nothing seems to have any effect at all."

"It's like they're just absorbing the magic," Longbottom added, helpfully.

McGonagall frowned at him. "I assure you, Mr Longbottom," she said stiffly, "that that is impossible." She didn't offer any other explanation to what was happening, however, simply decided to raise her voice and force a bit more power down her wand. Let Madam Pomfrey figure it out. "_MOBILICORPUS_!"

And, as though that was the single they had been waiting for, all 8 bodies shot into the air…. Only not the way she had intended.

"_STUPEFY_!"

"_EXPELLIARMUS_!"

The 8 students blinked as their head of house soared across the room to collapse into a pile of cushions, unconscious. Mouth open, Frank wordlessly caught her wand.

James looked at Sirius, utterly confused as to why they were surrounded by their fellow housemates, in just their boxer shorts, in the common room. All the other sleepy students looked equally confused, a few of them staring with dawning horrified comprehension at their fallen teacher. But it was Ron who summed up the situation perfectly.

"Um, what the bloody hell is going on?"

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

Love,

Hannanora-Potter


	18. In which we flash back

**Title:** Time is a Healer

**Summary:** Harry, Ron and Hermione are suddenly and inexplicably thrown into the Marauders' sixth year at Hogwarts. Delighted with this chance to meet his parents and reunite with the recently deceased Sirius, Harry soon starts to cut his ties for the future, leaving Ron and Hermione seriously worried. And what's the monster that's starting to stalk Harry?

**Timeline and Spoilers:** Books 1 through 5, at the beginning of Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts (very beginning)

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and any related characters and setting are all the property of J.K. Rowling and not me.

**Extra:** '_blah_' = thoughts

This is **not** a new chapter. TiaH has been reformatted and chapters split up so that none of them are much over 10,000 words (the old chapter 13 was over 30,000 which is just ridiculous). The first **new** chapter is chapter 20. Enjoy!

_**Chapter Eighteen: In Which We Flash Back**_

"James."

Lily's soft whisper brought James out of his stupor, drawing his gaze away from the triangle of Ron, Harry and Hermione. Lily had clambered over the rubble that had surrounded her and was now staring above his head. With a start, James suddenly remembered the mountain of bricks that had been hovering above his head and scrambled towards Lily in panic. Tripping over, Lily caught his arms as he fell, a small smile on her face as she stared at where James had just been standing. Confused, James looked back and felt his mouth drop open: the rubble was gone.

"You were right, James," Lily said, heaving him up to his feet. "It _was_ all Past: look at Honeydukes."

Gazing up at the sweet shop, James saw what she was talking about. During the battle, the entire top floor had collapsed and fallen by Lily. Now there wasn't a single scratch on the store. But, feeling shaken confidence coming back, James turned and smirked at Lily. "Wait a minute, _Evans_," he teased, grinning at her, "did you just admit that I was right about something?"

She glared at him, but it was half hearted. The corner of her mouth began to tilt upwards in a smile. "Don't expect it ever again, _Potter_," she retorted, flicking her hair back over her shoulder. "I still think you're an egocentric prick."

James smiled. "Ah, but I'm _your_ egocentric prick," he informed her, half-heartedly batting off brick dust. Despite the evident lack of bricks, it seemed that their dust remained. Lily's hair was caked in it too. Grinning at Lily's red face, he walked off to find Remus and Peter and, if necessary, pull them out of the ground.

Remus and Peter _were_ still half immersed in the ground, but it seemed as though James' help wasn't needed after all: a large, black dog was enthusiastically digging around their legs, flinging mountains of dirt behind him. "Sirius!" James cried, excitedly, running forward to grasp Padfoot, but instead getting a face full of dirt. Padfoot turned around and panted happily at James, who was cursing as he spat out the mouthful of dirt he'd just inadvertently swallowed. "Idiot!" James said affectionately, as he ruffled Padfoot's fur. Padfoot just licked his face – "Yuk!" – and carried on digging.

"Here, James, grab my arm," Remus called, reaching out an arm. Grabbing hold of Remus' arm, James heaved and pulled. It was still a struggle to pull him out, despite the loosened earth around him, but eventually Remus came sprawling out of the ground. James then did the same for Peter and then all four of them sat there, covered in mud, and panting. Eventually, however, the continued sobs of Harry got their attention and they all looked to the centre of the square.

None of them knew what to say, James least of all. He felt like an intruder – like he shouldn't be there. He was part of the source of this boy's pain but there was nothing he could do to ease it. Nothing. Even his heavy breathing seemed to disturb the mournful atmosphere. He wanted to look away, but his eyes were inexplicably drawn, time and again, to the crying orphan and his two friends. A soft touch on his arm made him jump and he looked over in shock to see Lily's arm curled around his. Her eyes were watery, salty tracks down her cheeks, as she bit her lip. "I don't know what to do," she whispered, voice catching in her throat.

James smiled half-heartedly at her. "Neither do I," he admitted. He felt his own eyes begin to sting. "Fine parents we are."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lily shoot him a quick look. '_Probably to see if I'm joking about,_' he thought, though too miserable to correct her.

"Maybe he's best left to them two," Remus said, quietly, watching Ron and Hermione. "After all, they're the ones who know him best."

"But we're the ones causing him pain."

James looked around, shocked, because that soft comment hadn't come from Lily or Moony – it had come from Sirius. Sirius _knew._ James swallowed. "Sirius, mate, I – "

Sirius' slightly muddy face shot him a slight smile, though his eyes said different. "I _know_, James – but it all comes to us, eventually. It's just a bummer that it has to come so soon."

"It could be different," James argued, throat painfully tight as he himself tried not to cry. "You never know." He laughed wetly. "And since when are you so wise?"

Sirius actually grinned then. "Well, I've always been like that – just been hidden over the playful doggy exterior." But the grin fell away as he looked over at Harry once more.

Remus frowned at them both. "What are you talking about?"

Peter and Lily looked equally confused.

Sirius and James exchanged a glance – should they tell them? But it was so hard a burden for James to bear – he wouldn't wish it on anyone, especially his Evans. He smiled, "Doesn't matter – it's… well, we'll all find out at some point I suppose."

Remus and Lily looked even more worried at that, but Sirius thankfully cut off their pending questions by looking at his watch and yelping. "Hell, Prongs – it's gone 3!"

"In the morning?!" Lily gasped, horrified.

"No, in the twilight zone," Sirius bit out, sarcastically. "Of course in the morning!"

Lily went red, glaring at him. "Well, I'm sorry, but there is _no way_ we're were out here that long! Where's the time gone?"

They all paused, uncertain. Their battle with Past, whilst exhausting, could not honestly have been said to go on for more than an hour and they hadn't left the school _that_ late. Sirius swallowed uncomfortably. "Well, maybe my watch is wrong," he said.

"No, it isn't," Remus said, staring at his own. "Mine says it, too."

"And mine," James added, glumly.

"We should head back," Lily said, glancing at her own. "We've still got classes tomorrow."

"Evans, we just fended off an evil immortal _monster_," Sirius scoffed, disbelievingly. "I hardly think classes are top priority right now."

Lily glared at him, but for once couldn't argue with him. Besides, no one really wanted to tell the three time travellers it was time to get going.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

Harry just sat there, tears still falling, but now it was more a trickle than the flood it had been earlier. He was looking at some insignificant bit of ground, but his mind was elsewhere. He had been put through the most traumatic, emotional journey of his life… but he finally felt at peace. His gaze flickered briefly over to where a dark, Grim-like dog was digging enthusiastically in the ground. He had so much trauma and loss in his life that he wanted to hold onto his last chance at a normal life as long as he could.

But some things will just never be.

Harry should just accept the fact that he wasn't normal – he never would be. He had known it ever since he'd first heard the Prophecy, but he hadn't wanted to believe it. Everything bad had seemed to happen to him. _He_ was the one who'd been orphaned. _He_ was the one who'd endured years of neglect and hate. _He _was the one who'd seen his godfather murdered in front of him.

But reliving everything… that had shown him the great things that _had_ happened to him. He had had two, wonderful, loving parents who had loved him so much they had given their lives for him. And his Godfather had died trying to rescue him, even when told not to. And even now he was embraced with two friends who had gone to hell and back with him – had just faced off a monster even worse than _Voldemort_ for him. And he had almost thrown all that away.

He was a bloody idiot, sometimes.

But now he knew what he had to do: had to honour his parents and Sirius by living his life and make them proud by doing it well and in the present. Oh yeah – and send Voldemort to hell for all eternity.

*_Well said,* _a small voice said in his head. *_But_ _you might want to get back to the school soon… this is gonna hurt_.*

Harry didn't have time to ask the little voice in his head what that meant – or question as to why he was hearing a strange little voice in his head – because he suddenly collapsed.

"Merlin, Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione's voice rang out, but he had no breath left to reply. Suddenly his head was reeling, all his limbs felt strange and detached – almost like the time Lockhart had removed his bones, but Merlin he hoped _that_ hadn't happened again – bar a sharp pain in his hand once more. '_Bloody hell, my hand_!' he thought, panicking. He needed his potion… but Merlin, he was tired! It must have been a strange reaction to Past – it _had_ been a long night – but still…

*_Don't worry… you'll be fine._*

That voice was back again. '_Great,_' Harry thought tiredly, as the world started to go black, "_I've finally gone insane…_'

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

Hermione's shocked cry rang out across the otherwise silent street. Lily jumped – what was happening now? She'd thought everything was over. She exchanged a quick, worried glance with Potter, before they all ran across the short distance to the others, to find Ron and Hermione hovering over a suddenly unconscious Harry.

"What's happening?" Lily gasped, skidding to her knees. She grasped Harry's wrist, relieved to find a strong, steady pulse.

"I don't know," Hermione wailed, hands waving around everywhere as if uncertain what to do with them. "He was just fine and then… suddenly…" She trailed off, looking pale.

"I thought we'd won… didn't we win?" Peter asked, confused.

"I thought we did," Sirius agreed, crouching down next to Hermione and putting his arm around her comfortably. Lily quirked an eyebrow when Hermione didn't immediately throw him off, but then she didn't look as though she quite knew what was going on. Meanwhile, she looked at Ron who seemed to be doing some sort of spell.

"Well, that's bloody weird," he said suddenly, staring at his wand in confusion.

"What?" James, Remus and Lily asked concernedly.

He looked up at them, frowning. "He's not unconscious, or hurt, or bleeding internally, nothing like that," Ron explained, frowning at his best friend as he performed the spell again. "He's just asleep."

They all stared at him.

"Asleep?" Sirius repeated, incredulous. "He's taking a bloody nap?!"

Ron shrugged, looking as confused as the rest of them. "Seems so… but it's… well, it's obviously a side effect of battling Past. There's no bloody way Harry would just pop off like that otherwise."

"Wait – didn't _we_ just battle Past?" Lily asked, apprehensively.

"Yeah, but he got the most of it," James pointed out, although he sounded uncertain. "Probably won't happen to – "

"Um, ok, Hermione's just passed out in my arms," Sirius interrupted suddenly, and they all stared at the suddenly snoozing sixth year.

There was a pause.

"Bloody Merlin!"

"Back to Hogwarts now!"

There was a mad scramble as everyone got to their feet, Sirius valiantly carrying Hermione whilst James picked up Harry. "Go!" James snapped, when Remus hung back to ask him if he wanted any help. Lily was one of the first to get to Honeydukes and almost dislocated her shoulder when the door stayed shut. "Bollocks," she whispered, tugging experimentally on the handle. The door remained shut. She looked at the others. "The door repaired itself, like the rubble and the locking charms are back on."

They all exchanged worried glances. "We can't break down the door again," James said, finally, sweating as he shifted Harry in his arms. Skinny the boy may be – light he was not. "The owners are sure to hear this time and they might even discover the passageway."

"Shrieking shack?" Ron suggested hoarsely. Lily jumped.

"We can't go there!" she hissed, alarmed. "It's one of the most violently haunted places in Britain!"

The others all ignored her, though, Remus dismissing the idea, said "No – we could never be sure we'd effectively repatched any forced entry we might make to make it safe for… well."

There was another pause here, one in which Lily was extremely confused. What were they all talking about? Fidgeting – and beginning to feel exhaustion creep into her bones – Lily shot off a simple Alohomora at the door, just to see. Much to her astonishment it worked perfectly and the door swung silently open.

"Must have been Past adding all that extra magic before, then," James pondered, staring at the dark doorway for a minute before giving himself a shake. "What are we all doing?! Go on, Evans, get a move on!"

At the reminder of their sudden peril, they all dashed forward again, Lily lighting her wand as she went. She stepped aside to let one of the Marauders go ahead of her, as she didn't really know that way, and followed after the pale blur that was Remus. Every now and then she glanced upwards worriedly, hoping that the owners were still fast asleep – they weren't exactly being quiet anymore, what with Sirius and James groaning every other step and Peter accidentally knocking over a barrel of Jelly slugs on the way down…

Luckily, they all managed to get down into the secret passageway without any sudden yells about intruders, carefully lowering Hermione and Ron down. As Ron closed the trapdoor over them, they all stood, breathing heavily, in the musty near darkness. James was leaning against a wall, panting, while Sirius was hardly better off. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Ron stumble, pale and shaking. He was probably going to be the next of them to drop. Lily, herself, felt fine, just her heart thumping a little louder after her sudden sprint. But she had no clue how they were all going to get back into Gryffindor tower before all of them were unconscious.

"What are we going to do?" she asked, a little breathless.

"We'll have to take turns carrying Harry and Hermione," Remus said, who had noticed the poor conditions of James and Sirius just like her. "You two can't carry them all the way back on your own."

"We'll be fine," Sirius protested, although it was somewhat lost when he had to take four breaths just to finish the sentence.

"Yeah, right, Black," Lily scoffed, although inwardly she was starting to panic. What was she going to do? She'd had a perfect school record so far – if she got caught sneaking off school grounds after hours – with the _Marauders_ of all people – she'd never get to be Head Girl. She thought Dumbledore would believe them… but what if he didn't? "Mobilicorpus?" she suggested.

But it was Remus shaking his head this time. "We need to run all the way back – the tunnel's too low, they'd just be bashed about all over the place," he pointed out. "And if we walk back we'd most likely all be unconscious before we got anywhere near."

"I'll take them," James said, suddenly. The others all looked at him.

"You think you could?" Remus asked, uncertainly. "It _is_ a long way…"

"I'll be fine," James dismissed, flapping a hand at Remus although he looked pale. "I'll have to be, won't I?"

Ron looked a little uncertain. "Have you ever... well, before?" he asked, fidgeting, gaze going between James and his two comatose friends nervously.

"No, but like I said: I have to," James replied, looking stubborn.

By now, Lily was rather thinking she was missing something.

"What the _hell_ are you lot talking about?" she snapped, staring between the other boys. "That's ridiculous – there's no _way_ James could carry both of them all the way back to the school – that's utter nonsense!"

All five boys shifted uneasily. "Well, actually, Evans," James said, hand going to ruffle his hair again, "there's something we haven't told you." ("There's a shock," Lily muttered under her breath.) James paused and looked at the others, before there was a popping sound and James disappeared.

In his place was a beautiful stag.

Lily dropped her wand in shock, making its light zig zag across the stone walls as it rolled away, but Lily didn't care. "Sweet, bloody Merlin!" she gasped, faintly, stumbling to lean against the dank wall. "Potter… you're a bloody animagus?!"

The stag lowered its head gravely, before coming back up and staring her right in the eye. She looked over at the other Marauders. "And I suppose you…?" she asked, almost not wanting to know the answer.

Without a word, both Sirius and Peter disappeared. Sirius was a big, black, Grim-like dog who whined sadly at her, tail wagging. Seeing him Lily cursed – idiot! She had _seen_ a big black dog earlier, but her attention had been on the time travellers…she'd dismissed it as a trick of the light.

She couldn't see Peter at first, but then heard a small squeak at her feet and looked down to see a _rat_! It was perched on its hind legs and looking up at her with big blue eyes. She jumped and squealed a bit before she realised what – or, rather, _who_ – it was.

She shot a quick look over to Remus. "What about you?" she asked, wondering what on earth he could change into that he didn't deem it safe enough to do in a tunnel.

Remus shifted slightly. "I change… into something else," he said, noncommittally. Lily was about to question him further, when she caught the pleading look in his eyes.

"Oook…" she said, but inwardly wondered what on _earth_ Remus changed into that it couldn't be safely done in a tunnel.

With a pop, all three animals turned back into their human counterparts, all looking anxiously at Lily. "You won't tell, will you?" Peter asked, somewhat desperately.

"I –" Lily was at a loss as to what to say. _Would_ she tell? A few weeks ago – hell, even yesterday – she probably would have turned them in straight away. Becoming animagi – it was incredibly stupid of them, not to mention highly illegal – '_I mean, they could have _died_! What the hell were they thinking?_' Another part of her was highly impressed that they could do it at all – becoming an animagi was supposed to be very difficult. She was especially impressed that Peter – with his weaker magical ability – could have managed it at all. She supposed the others had given him quite a lot of help… That aside, it was still highly irresponsible and an imprisonable offence. She could get arrested just for _knowing_ about them!

But yesterday wasn't today.

Yesterday she hadn't fought side by side with them to save a grief-stricken friend. She hadn't snuck out of school to do battle with a monster. She hadn't saved their lives and they hadn't saved hers. But they had and she had. She was not the same Lily Evans as she was yesterday. She had yet to decide whether this was a good thing or not, though.

She looked at James. "I won't turn you in," she said finally, over their sighs of relief. "You only showed me as a way to help us and… well, you saved my life, Potter. James."

"Thanks, Lily," James said softly.

"Um, hate to ruin this nice little moment you two have got going on here," Sirius said, cutting through the sudden silence, "but remember that pressing need to get back to Hogwarts. Now?!"

Both Lily and James jumped. "Right," James said, shooting a small smile at Lily. "Load me up, Padfoot!" he commanded, before popping back into his glorious stag form (although Lily would probably die before she admitted to James Potter that he made a beautiful stag). Prongs. She smiled – finally she understood the name. She shot a look at Remus as he helped Sirius arrange Hermione carefully on the Stag's back. She had figured out what Moony stood for years ago.

When the two students were safely on Prong's back – secured with several clever Charms by Remus and Lily – Sirius turned to Peter. "I'll change into Padfoot – you get on my back as Wormtail," he instructed. "It'll be quicker that way."

"Looks like it'll just be the three of us running then," Remus said dryly, indicating her and Ron. Ron groaned, looking pale. Lily herself didn't feel too pleased at the prospect. Remus just smiled wanly. "Come on, let's go."

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

They were almost at the tunnels mouth when Ron collapsed. Sirius, racing on ahead with Peter on his head holding Hermione's lumos-lit wand, only noticed when he stopped hearing the clattering of Prong's hooves behind him.

Turning around to see what was going on, he growled and popped back into Sirius, catching the indignantly squeaking Wormtail as he fell off his head. "_Thanks_, Sirius," Peter muttered sarcastically as he changed back. Sirius ignored him as headed towards the rest of the group.

"What are we going to do now?" Lily asked, somewhat frantic.

"We're not that far from the tunnels end," Remus assured her, seizing one of Ron's arms. "We'll just have to carry him."

Lily groaned but made no further complaint. She was tired and sweaty, but then so were they all. James snorted, still in his Prongs form, and danced, carefully shaking his back.

"No way, mate," Sirius said, cottoning on to what James intended. "You're even more exhausted than the rest of us. In fact," Sirius waved Hermione's wand carefully and intoned, "_mobilicorpus_."

Nothing happened.

Everyone stared at Sirius who turned bright red and tried again. "_Mobilicorpus_." Still nothing happened. "Remus, what's going on?" Sirius asked, beginning to panic. Why was his magic not working?

"I'm not sure," Remus frowned, before trying to cast the same spell himself and failing. "Maybe it's the draining effect of Past?"

"So as well as making us physically exhausted he's also sapping our magic?" Lily asked, frowning herself.

Remus shrugged. "Could be."

"But I used an _alohomora_ back at Honeydukes," she pointed out, "and James, Sirius and Peter have all been in their animagus forms."

"Well... maybe it's progressive, like the tiredness thing," Remus theorised. He frowned suddenly. "Speaking of which, James, you should probably turn back now before you become unconscious in that form – I don't even want to _think_ about how we'll get you back to Gryffindor in _that_ state!"

Prongs the stag snorted, alarmed, and quickly popped back into his human form... conveniently forgetting his two passengers and emitting a loud "Oof!" as he disappeared under the two time travellers.

"You idiot," Sirius said as he pulled Hermione off his best friend.

"Shut up, Padfoot," James replied hoarsely as he appeared from beneath Harry as Remus heaved him aside. He coughed and massaged his aching back. "Don't think I'll be doing that again for a while."

"Not even for Evans?" Sirius asked under his breath, smirking.

The look James shot at him would have melted stone.

"Remus, give me Harry," James said, turning to his werewolf friend as Remus heaved the unconscious boy into his hands. "Sirius, you've got Hermione – Remus, Peter, do you think you can manage Ron between you?"

"Just about," Peter said, grabbing one of the red head's shoulders and tugging him upright with Remus' help.

"And what about me, James?" Lily wanted to know.

"You can scout ahead," James said, shifting Harry carefully in his arms. "Be quick but careful!"

Sirius heard Lily snort derisively as she moved past him to the front of the group. He grinned. He didn't think Evans needed to be told that twice!

"What's the matter, Evans?" he asked, grinning, as he moved behind the prefect. "Afraid of putting a black mark on that perfect record of yours?"

"Shut up, Black," she hissed back, but he could hear the slight grin in her voice.

"Right, Remus, Peter – you got Ron?" James asked, twisting behind him. Two affirmative grunts came from behind. "Well, Lily – take us out."

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

Wandering around Hogwarts at the dead of night with the Marauders, three unconscious time travellers and the constant threat of an impending comatose state (not to mention expulsion) didn't exactly make for an enjoyable journey, Lily Evans decided. Despite knowing Hogwarts extremely well in the daytime, by night Hogwarts took on a different air. The familiar suits of armour were easily mistaken in the shadows for teachers or Filch and the pearly light of the waxing moon gave everything a feeling of dangerous mystery.

James didn't exactly help, either, as he kept hissing out sudden instructions and making her jump. She thought the secret passage to Hogsmeade was illuminating – that was _nothing_ compared to the myriad of secret passageways, tunnels and staircases that the Marauders seemed to know. She vaguely wondered how on earth they had time to find them all – not to mention how. '_Well,_' she thought, '_they may not be committed to anything resembling school work (except Remus) but they certainly are committed to figuring out how to evade as many teachers as possible._'

Luckily it was so early in the morning that hardly any teachers were about, but Filch was up and about and then there were always the ghosts. Most of them, Lily had to concede, were so far out of it that they probably wouldn't even notice the students in the first place, but Peeves was another matter. They had the misfortune to run into him twice, but luckily both times Sirius or James knew a nearby secret passage that they could hide in until he passed.

"Having fun, Evans?" Sirius asked her after the second time. Unfortunately the only place to hide was hardly bigger than a cleaning closest so, as a result, they were all rather squashed. Her head was currently squished against Sirius' shoulder and, embarrassingly, her bottom was more or less in James' lap. She was trying to ignore that.

So she thought she could be forgiven for the only reply she could manage, which was, "Go to hell and die, Black."

By the time they were approaching the Fat Lady Lily was already a mess of nerves, but as they got closer something else began taking hold: exhaustion.

It was like nothing else Lily had felt before. Yes, she'd been tired before, but even the worst of those times had felt nothing like this. It had begun quite slowly, so she hadn't noticed it at first, or dismissed it as a consequence of being up so late. But the slow heaviness and ache had only intensified, making her start to sweat and shake. Her head had pounded its way into quite a horrible headache and now, worryingly, her vision was starting to peter out at the edges.

It felt like something was draining all her energy, slowly and surely.

Once they reached the Fat Lady (who thankfully just stared at them in gobsmacked silence) Lily had to lean against the wall, panting for breath. She turned her head just in time to see Sirius collapse, Hermione thudding to the door.

"Goodness me!" the Fat Lady said, astonished. "What on Earth have you been doing? Do you want me to call Madam Pomfrey?"

"No, thank you," James panted and Lily noted with alarm that he was grey and shaking. Judging by the look he gave her she probably looked the same. "Just let us in, please."

It was a mark of how astonished the Fat Lady was that she completely forgot to ask them for a password and just swung open.

"Come on," Remus said groaning and, with Peter, shoving Ron through the portrait hall. James followed with Harry, but needed help from both Remus and Peter to pick up Hermione afterwards. Remus had also begun to shake, but luckily not as severely as James or Lily. Clambering in through the portrait hole herself took almost all Lily had and she almost passed out herself before realising that none of the boys could go up to the girls dormitories.

Which meant she had to carry Hermione up all seven flights of stairs.

By herself.

'_Oh great,_' she groaned to herself.

"Yo-you be alright, E-Lily?" James asked, leaning against the wall as she herself had just done and breathing hard.

She couldn't even muster the energy for a proper response, just jerked her head in a vague 'yes'. '_Well, this is going to be fun._'

She reached over and grabbed Hermione's arms, almost falling over when she pulled the full weight. With a slight feeling of guilt she realised that Hermione was going to be extremely bruised when she woke up – seven flights worth of stairs equals a lot of bumps. '_Well,_' she told herself as much as the insentient girl, '_I'm sure you'd rather this than being caught unconscious in the common room, so here we go._'

They had gotten about a third of the way up the stairs (that is to say were currently pausing for breath outside the third year girls dorm on the 2nd floor landing) when the clock in the common room dimed a rather dismal four tones to signify that it was now 4am... and a horrible reminder that she had to get up in three hours' time for class.

'_Bugger,_' was Lily's only thought. So she had entirely managed to escape punishment for being out of Gryffindor tower after curfew, leaving the school, partially destroying a local business establishment, battling an evil god, breaking back into said business establishment, once more sneaking through the school after curfew but was most likely going to be given her first detention ever for being tardy in the morning.

Life was a real nasty little sod sometimes.

"Almost there, Hermione," she panted, legs feeling wobbly as they rounded the last turn. She didn't think she'd ever been so relieved to see her dorm room and a sudden spurt of energy had her up those last steps and into the room far quicker than she would have thought possible. She winced as the door banged shut behind her, but luckily her two roommates, Marly and Alice, were as hard to waken at night as they were first thing in the morning.

Despite all the corners, dragging and endless stairs, Lily surprisingly found getting Hermione onto her bed was almost the end of her. But eventually, with much straining and inward cursing, Hermione was on. Lily didn't have the strength left to change Hermione into pyjamas – not that she was entirely sure the other girl would be so happy about that anyway – and simply threw the duvet back over the bushy haired sixth year.

Lily herself just collapsed on her bed and let oblivion finally take her.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

Love,

Hannanora Potter

~x~x~x~


	19. In which not much of anything is done

**Title:** Time is a Healer

**Summary:** Harry, Ron and Hermione are suddenly and inexplicably thrown into the Marauders' sixth year at Hogwarts. Delighted with this chance to meet his parents and reunite with the recently deceased Sirius, Harry soon starts to cut his ties for the future, leaving Ron and Hermione seriously worried. And what's the monster that's starting to stalk Harry?

**Timeline and Spoilers:** Books 1 through 5, at the beginning of Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts (very beginning)

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and any related characters and setting are all the property of J.K. Rowling and not me.

**Extra:** '_blah_' = thoughts

This is **not** a new chapter. TiaH has been reformatted and chapters split up so that none of them are much over 10,000 words (the old chapter 13 was over 30,000 which is just ridiculous). The first **new** chapter is chapter 20. Enjoy!

_**Chapter Nineteen: In Which Not Much of Anything Is Done At All**_

For their part in what the lower years were deeming the "McGonagall Massacre", the Marauders, Lily and time travellers were only given one detention, after a very convincing explanation to Professor Dumbledore. In fact, for their exemplary reflexes in case of an attack, they were each awarded 10 points. This, however, didn't quite cover the 150 points that McGonagall docked as a whole from Gryffindor house. She had been livid and all students had to undergo a week of detentions, going through the whole of the dungeons and cleaning them… without magic. Alice and Marlene, the main perpetrators, had it even worse as they had to personally clean Groll's dungeon classroom and office whilst under her supervision.

Alice was not too happy with Marlene at the moment.

"Hey! It wasn't _my_ idea, Professor!" she had protested in vain.

"Yes, but you didn't stop her, did you?" pointed out Professor McGonagall icily. To say that her attitude towards her house had gone drastically downhill would be an understatement.

Due to the mass detentions, that meant the first week after his encounter with Past was a very peaceful and healing one for Harry. The lack of nosy students meant he could talk unhindered about the future with his parents and Godfather. Whilst it was harder to talk about his own life (especially with Hermione constantly stressing about how much they could actually say), he could listen to his parents, Remus, Sirius and Peter regaling the trio with stories about their lives at Hogwarts thus far. He even learned about his grandparents, something he had never thought to ask about before. He knew from his time at Privet Drive that Aunt Petunia's parents had died a few years before Lily did, but knew nothing what so ever about his paternal grandparents.

Through it all, Ron and Hermione sat beside him. Ron mainly spent his time getting pranking tips from Sirius and James, whilst Hermione chatted avidly with Lily and Remus about schoolwork, of all things. One of the few things it was safe to talk about (much to both Hermione and Lily's chagrin) was Quidditch, something the six boys talked about often.

"Oh – well, there was this one time when the pitch was invaded by dementors and Harry fell off his broom – what was it, 100 feet mate?" Ron was saying, enthusiastically (the debate about Quidditch teams and games had quickly devolved into who had had the most dramatic/life threatening game).

"Yeah, way to pick the only one I lost, Ron," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"You do that wandless levitation thing?" Sirius asked, impressed.

Harry shifted. "Um, no – I was already unconscious by that point. Dumbledore slowed me down."

"Huh. Well, if it makes you feel better, James lost a game once because he was too busy presenting Lily with a cloud he froze and then shaped into a flower for her," Remus offered, grinning.

That got a shout of laughter as well as an indignant "Hey!" from James. Harry grinned. "You're right, that _does_ make me feel better."

"In my defence, the only reason we lost is because the snitch accidentally collided with Abbot's head."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever James," Sirius dismissed. "Anyway, I thought this was supposed to be about life threatening Quidditch, not Prong's romantic blunders."

"Well, I suppose there was the time that a crazy house elf tried to save Harry's life by bewitching a bludger to grievously injure him," Ron suggested, smirking when he saw their gob smacked faces.

"A crazy house elf?" James repeated slowly, staring incredulously.

"He's not crazy," Harry defended his little friend, "just... well, very Dobby."

Ron just looked at him.

"Ok, ok... so maybe he is a little mad," Harry admitted, grinning. "But he didn't manage to do anything serious."

"No," Ron agreed, grinning in reply. "I think the prize for that particular incident goes to that git, Lockhart."

"Lockhart?" Lily asked suddenly, looking over at them from where, as far as Harry could tell, she and Hermione were having a very involved discussion about the origin of a particular rune. "Isn't he that Hufflepuff who graduated two years ago?"

"I think so," Remus said, slowly ("Figured he'd be a Hufflepuff," Ron muttered to Harry who sniggered), "Gilderoy Lockhart."

James, Peter and Sirius just looked blank. Remus sighed in exasperation. "Remember – you straightened his hair one lunch time and he wouldn't come out of the Hufflepuff dormitory for three days?"

"Oh, _him_!" Sirius said, whilst James just laughed. "Fussy git – what in Merlin's name was he doing at your Quidditch match?" Sirius suddenly stopped, horrified. "Don't tell me that git procreated?!"

Ron and Harry burst into laughter. "Merlin, no, nothing like that," Harry said. "He was our DADA teacher that year."

"Worst one," Ron said, in between snorts.

"Actually, Umbridge was worse," Harry said, suddenly grim faced.

There was silence for a little while. Whilst Harry was getting better, little reminders still slunk him into a mild depression. James and Sirius looked somewhat helplessly at Hermione who rolled her eyes and said, "Well, Umbridge was a total toad, but at least she never removed all the bones in your hand."

"WHAT?" James yelped, staring at Harry in astonishment who, caught in the moment, grinned.

"What on Earth did he do that for?" Lily asked, completely puzzled.

"Well, he didn't _mean_ to, per se..." Ron said, grinning. "The bludger broke Harry's arm... he was just trying to fix the break."

"By removing his bones?!" Peter squeaked, eyes wide. Harry, Ron and Hermione just laughed.

"Well, he's bloody lucky that I was dead," James said, eyes glinting, "because I would have done a lot worse than straighten his hair this time."

"Nah, we'd have turned it pink," Sirius agreed, slapping Prongs on the back.

"But with curly golden nostril hair," James conceded, smiling angelically. "See, I'm not entirely unforgiving."

"Well, if you really want to get to Lockhart, you need to do something to his teeth," Harry told them, grinning sadistically.

"His teeth?" Remus repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, he _is_ the winner of Witch Weekley's most charming smile award, five years running," Ron informed them, laughing.

"Hmm... not sure we've ever had to tackle teeth before," James said.

"But we never back down from a challenge," Sirius continued, rubbing his hands together gleefully.

"What about me?" Lily suddenly asked.

"Eh? Your teeth are perfect, Lily dear," James said, confused (but not so confused as to forget to shoot her a smitten smile). "What on earth could I do to enhance such splendour?"

Instead of hitting him, Lily actually blushed slightly. "Shut up, you prat," she said, not quite succeeding in her hiding her smile. "No, I meant, I'm the, er, Mum – what do I get to do to the imbecile that mutilated my son?"

"You get to send a howler," Ron said solemnly. "That's what Mum's are best at, after all."

James cringed as he remembered the howler he had received only a few days – '_days? Bloody hell, it feels like months ago!_' James thought wonderingly – before. "Yep, howlers are definitely the forte of Mums."

Lily scowled, hands on hips. "So I'm at my son's Quidditch match, he gets cursed by a teacher – "

"And a house elf, sort of," Peter added helpfully.

" – and all I do is go home and write an _angry letter_?!" Lily finished, incredulously.

"Well, Lily, I think you're assuming that you would actually go to a Quidditch match, here," James pointed out reasonably, trying to be helpful. Unfortunately, this didn't quite work as planned.

"And why, James Potter, would I not attend one of my son's Quidditch matches?" Lily asked, eyes dangerously narrowed.

"Well... er, you don't really like Quidditch.. do you?"

"Who cares if I don't like Quidditch or not?" Lily asked, indignant. "I'd go to a bloody gobstones tournament if my son was participating!"

"Gobstones? Really?" Sirius asked, amazed. "Why would anyone do that? Bo-ring!"

Both Lily and James glared at him and he hurriedly backtracked. "Yep, sorry, off subject there."

Harry, Ron and Hermione were all laughing by this point. Harry had hardly ever felt so happy and content before. So this was what it was like to hang with your parents. He understood that probably, in reality, there was probably a bit more yelling and rules, like with Mrs Weasley, but this was all he had. It was fun to listen them planning all the various horrible things they would do to all his teachers that had abused him over the years (Lily had finally calmed down after James had conceded to her demands to be able to magically turn Lockhart's teeth into muggle dentures (something which sidetracked James and Sirius (not to mention Ron) for quite a few minutes)).

But with the laughter came a tinge of sadness, for he knew that all they planned would never happen. They would be taken away from him long before hapless Lockhart came onto the scene. A twinge in his hand made him look down. He'd astonished Madam Pomfrey by going down from three bottles of the potion a day to just one now. When asked about what had happened he'd simply shrugged. What could he say after all? Even for Hogwarts a massive dog-shaped deity seemed a little extreme.

But terrifying, traumatic and exhausting though the experience had been it had been worth it. He was Harry again. Only occasionally did his thoughts turn dark enough for his hand to twinge slightly and those moments were getting fewer and farther in between. Soon they would be gone completely.

And he would have to go home.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

The next few days were riddled with small moments like this, moments that Harry had learned to treasure – they were the only real moments he would have with his parents and he got to know a side of Sirius that he had never known before. He still wasn't too sure how to feel about Peter. Seeing him with the Marauders he could hardly reconcile him with the desperate man that he had first met back in third year, but he tried not to let any of that show on his face. The few times he had let it slip Peter had just looked hurt and the rest of the Marauders were confused and defensive of their friend.

He didn't see as much of his mother as he would have liked. Harry had spent his five years at Hogwarts listening to people comparing him to his father and telling stories of the Marauders. No one ever really said anything about Lily, except that he had her eyes. Now he realised how little he actually knew about her. But the problem was that during school hours – in other words, when the rest of the Gryffindors _weren't_ in detention – Lily stuck to her friends Marlene and Alice and occasionally Hermione (when she became bored of being with a group of teenage boys (and Sirius' still continuing flirting)). On the plus side, she did actually manage to talk to the whole group without yelling which, as Sirius told Harry gleefully, was something she hadn't been able to do since partway through first year.

Harry sighed and looked out of the dormitory window, reflection glinting oddly in the moonlight. '_Some things have to be both ways,_' he thought to himself. '_Maybe I should be the one to go to talk to her. After all, it's got to be at least a bit awkward for her to suddenly have a son the same age as her.'_

"What do you think they're doing right now?"

Harry jumped slightly at Ron's question. In the quiet, it was quite easy to forget that he wasn't alone in the dormitory, waiting out the night.

"Well, I'd _like_ to think that they're just running around in the Shrieking Shack," Hermione said, wrapping her duvet closer round her, "but I seriously doubt that's the case."

Ron just shrugged and bit off the head of his chocolate frog. "Well, I imagine after a few months that tunnel does become a bit boring, 'Mione."

"Boring? It's supposed to be safe!" Hermione snapped in reply, before shaking her head, grinning. "And _stop_ calling me 'Mione!"

"Yeah, whatever."

Harry grinned at his two best friends. Whatever had happened, he was glad that he hadn't been alone in all this. He was pretty sure that if he had been then Past would have most likely destroyed him and he wouldn't be alive to have this moment with them. He shuddered at the thought.

"Cold, Harry?" Hermione asked suddenly, noticing his shiver.

"Nah, I'm fine, just... thinking," Harry replied, pulling his own duvet round tighter. He shot a look out the window, wondering if he'd be able to see them in the moonlight. It was strange: he'd always imagined his dad and Sirius as animagi, pulling pranks and messing around, but he'd never given much thought to the reason why they had actually become animagi in the first place. Now the full moonlight lit Hogwarts almost as brightly as it was in the daytime sun and his father and friends were out there, exploring the forest in animal form, guarding a werewolf.

"Do you ever want to become an animagus?" he asked, suddenly.

Hermione looked at him sharply, eyes narrowed. "Why?"

Harry held his hands up in defence. "Calm down, '_Mione_," he teased, laughing. "I was just wondering."

To her credit, Hermione only went slightly pink as Ron and Harry laughed at her. She shook off their laughter with a shrug. "I suppose every witch or wizard would love to be one," she admitted, "if it wasn't so difficult."

"Are you saying you couldn't do it if you really wanted to?" Ron asked, teasing.

Hermione only stuck her tongue out.

"Do you think I'd be a stag like James?" Harry asked, stretching out. They'd been waiting up for the three animagi to return from the woods for a few hours now. Harry wasn't sure it was quite so healthy to be going to bed so early in the morning twice in one week, but his hand was getting better every day. This could be the only full moon they were here for.

Hermione frowned, tilting her head to one side and considering him. "I'm not sure... I don't think animagi forms tend to run in families."

"I'll be a lion," Ron stated, matter of factly. "Majestic, king of the animals."

"Well, you've certainly got the lazy, never-stops-eating part right," Hermione agreed and squealed when Ron hit her in the face with an every flavour bean.

"I'd like to be something that flies," Harry said. He had never felt freer than when he was flying, something he'd like to be able to do one day without a broom (especially as he had developed a nasty habit of falling off of them). "Maybe an eagle or a phoenix."

"I think a bird would suit you," Hermione agreed, smiling. "Would certainly explain why you're such a natural flier. What do you think I'd be?"

Harry and Ron both squinted at her. "Not sure," Harry said. "It would have to be something wise – "

" – and incredibly annoying," Ron added (who was immediately hit in the face with a pillow).

" – but probably not something that flies..." Harry trailed off, trying to think. "Maybe you'll be a cat, too, like McGonagall."

"Hmm, maybe."

There was another silence then. Harry pondered the question posed by the subject of animagi – to try, or not to try. He admitted to himself that it was something he had half-heartedly considered, ever since he'd learned about the Marauders. And now there was an added bonus: if he became an animagi, then that was one advantage he would have over Voldemort. No one ever knew about James, Sirius and Peter – not even Dumbledore – until Peter had let the cat – or rat, in this case – out of the bag. He looked at Ron and Hermione, consideringly. If they all did it together...

Hermione, however, had caught his eye and guessed what he was thinking. "Nu-uh, no way Harry!" she protested. "It's far too dangerous. We could get stuck halfway or even _die_!"

"They managed it alright, Hermione, even _Peter_," Harry pointed out, feeling a sudden surge of determination. This could really mean the difference between life and death for him if he was ever caught by Voldemort again.

"Yeah, are you saying you're going to be beaten by James and Sirius, Hermione?" Ron added quickly. He, more than Harry, knew how to wind Hermione up.

Hermione glared at him. "No! Honestly, Ron," she snapped.

"So you will do it then?" Ron asked, quickly, smiling beguiling at her.

"I – I... Oh, you two are incorrigible," Hermione snapped, folding her arms crossly.

"We're not asking for a definite yes or no, Hermione," Harry said, not quite pleadingly. "At least say you'll consider it?"

There was a small pause as Hermione frowned. "All right," she said eventually, and scowled when Harry and Ron cheered. "But I'm only _considering_ it," she reminded them, glaring forcefully.

"Yeah, yeah," Ron dismissed, grinning at Harry. "We all know you're going to say yes."

Hermione hit him with _tarantellagra_ and then proceeded to spend the next five minutes laughing with Harry as Ron crashed to the floor as his suddenly dancing legs got caught in the duvet.

They had fallen into a bit of a stupor by the time James, Sirius and Peter limped in, the pink of dawn slanting sleepily through the windows. They seemed somewhat surprised to see all 3 time travellers still up and waiting for them (well, two – Ron was snoring, lying flat down on James bed by that point) but certainly didn't say no to the hot chocolates that Hermione whipped up for them with a handy little spell.

"So, uh... how was it?" Harry asked, somewhat lamely.

James shrugged, managing to give a sleepy grin. "It was ok. Really getting to know the Forbidden Forest now," he added, looking thoughtfully at his cup of hot chocolate, before shooting a grin at Sirius. "Although maybe we should avoid that particular section again, unless Sirius wants to run into his lady friend again?"

That certainly had the desired effect of waking all three time travellers up. "Your _what_?" Ron asked, eyes wide.

Sirius glared at Prongs. "Shut up, Prongs – I don't want to talk about it!"

Peter laughed. "Sirius met a lady dog in the woods that didn't seem too keen to let him go," he explained, ducking unsuccessfully as Sirius threw his hot chocolate at him. "Ow!"

"Aw, what's the matter, Padfoot?" James teased, grinning. "Do you miss your girlfrie – hey!" he yelped, as he suddenly found himself wearing a bonnet and hoop dress. He looked down at himself whilst the others laughed, before looking up at Sirius and inclining his head gracefully. "Touché, old chap."

"So, Sirius, what was she like?" Harry needled, laughing.

"Don't tell me – she was a poodle!" Ron said, setting them off even more.

"Shut up!" Sirius said, turning redder and whacking James in the arm. "I swear, Prongs, you go out specifically hunting for places like that."

James stared at him, aghast. "Why, Sirius, you wound me," he said in mock hurt. "How could you ever suspect me of such a foul deed?"

"Well, there was the time you lead us to that wolf family which tried to adopt me," Sirius said, scowling, arms folded and glaring at his best friend.

"And when you managed to steer him into that swamp that made him smell like a dungbomb for a month," Peter added.

Sirius shuddered at that one. "Don't – I still wake up and think I can smell it at night."

("That's because I tend to set one off under his bed every now and then," James confided quietly to Harry and Ron, who immediately had to try and stifle their laughter as Sirius shot them suspicious glares.)

"And the time when – "

"Yes, yes, alright," James dismissed, rolling his eyes. "Can I _help_ it if you're natural prone to disaster?"

"I am _not_ a – _you're_ the one that is always leading me into these places!" Sirius spluttered, face going red, especially when he realised that the others were all too busy laughing at him to listen. "Well," Sirius said finally, when the others had calmed down, "at least you always rescue me... eventually."

James shrugged, grinning. "Eh. What are best friends for?"

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

Thankfully the next day was Friday and they only had to get through one day of school before the weekend rolled round again. Even Hermione had been glad by the prospect of no more classes, something which she was quite sure was a first for her. Having only got a couple of hours sleep meant she even had trouble staying awake in charms and that was by far and away her favourite class.

The boys didn't even manage that. Ron couldn't even stay awake for the first ten minutes of charms, which meant that Flitwick managed to fall off his tower of books when Ron gave a particularly loud snore. If she hadn't been so tired herself she would have laughed at Ron's face when he was woken up only to be given a detention.

Lily, not aware of Remus' condition, kept shooting them slightly suspicious looks, clearly thinking that they had pulled another prank or the like the night before. Hermione just smiled tiredly at her. She knew that Lily would have to find out about Remus at some point... but that was for the werewolf to decide, not her. She only hoped any suspicions Lily might feel would not hinder the new friendship she had found with the Marauders.

At lunch now the boys were beginning to perk up... '_No doubt,_' Hermione thought wryly, '_due to the sudden appearance of food._' Currently Ron, Peter and Sirius seemed to be having an impromptu contest as to who could fit the most food in their mouths whilst James and Harry ate at a slightly more sedate pace. Hermione herself was too tired to feel properly hungry and was just picking half-heartedly at some rolls.

"Ahem."

Harry, Ron and Hermione all jumped at the noise and whirled around to see Professor Dumbledore smiling at them. '_I wonder if we'll always expect to see Umbridge whenever we hear that,_' Hermione wondered idly, even as James was saying, "Hello, Professor."

"Hello, James," Dumbledore said, smiling knowingly. "Late night?"

"Not at all, sir," James said grinning.

"Of course, of course." Dumbledore turned his smile on the three time travellers. "Are you settled in alright now, Mr Potter, Mr Wesley?" he enquired, mildly.

"Yes, Professor, thank you," Harry agreed, Ron reduced to just nodding as he tried to swallow his food. Hermione rolled her eyes. '_Honestly._'

"Excellent." He clapped his hands together. "Well, tomorrow I thought might be the best time to address the issue of school supplies. I'm sure you've already made plans with your friends here, but I'm sure they will not begrudge you a weekend of shopping. I did consider allowing you all special permission to go to Diagon Alley, but there I'm sure there are shops aplenty to amuse you and your friends in Hogsmeade." He smiled at them.

"Oh. Er, thank you," Hermione said, uncertainly. '_Well, should be interesting to see how different the town is when NOT under threat of impending destruction._

_Wait a minute, did he just say our friends...?_'

"Wait, we're coming, too?!" Sirius asked, surprised.

"But of course, Mr Black," Dumbledore said, amused. "How would three foreign students _possibly_ find their way around Hogsmeade?"

The rest of the Marauders broke into grins. They knew, as well as he, that these particular transfer students would have no problems with the local wizarding village. "Of course, sir, how could we be so thoughtless?" James asked, mock sorrowfully. "These poor students... why, they'd just get horribly confused."

"And we, of course, are such Samaritans..." agreed Sirius.

"Why, it would be a crime _not_ to help them," concluded James.

Hermione, however, was not so certain. A day shopping in Hogsmeade with just a load of boys – one of whom was still somewhat bent on flirting with her... '_I think I would go mad!_'

"Er, may I request that Lily Evans comes along as well, sir?" she asked tentatively.

"Why yes, Miss Granger – I'll let you inform her," Professor Dumbledore agreed, smiling pleasantly. "And that reminds me, I came to give you these."

'These' were three small purses that he handed out to each of them. Hermione frowned and jiggled hers: it felt like money. This was confirmed when Ron upended his and tipped twenty galleons onto his hands. "Wow! Thank you, Professor Dumbledore!"

Dumbledore smiled, amused. "They are, of course, charmed so that they can only be spent on appropriate supplies for school," he added, smile widening as the Marauders laughed at Ron's crestfallen face. "Spend them well." And with that last remark he wondered up to the Staff Table, humming slightly to himself.

"How likely do you think it is that 'appropriate school supplies' will apply to fizzing whizbees?" Ron asked Sirius, gloomily.

Sirius just clapped Ron's back in commiseration.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

Later that evening saw the eight of them (Remus had rejoined the school after lessons looking more exhausted than any of them) sat in the Common room enjoying their last night without the rest of the house. Lily had decided to overlook – or, at least, temporarily forget – her suspicions in light of their imminent shopping trip ("Hogsmeade?! No way!" she had squealed in a most un-Lily way... well, until she added. "I was hoping to get that new Charms book from the book shop there but I thought I'd have to wait until Halloween... yes!" Marlene and Alice had looked a bit put out, especially when Lily told them to stop being such grouches because they couldn't go anyway – as perpetrators they had an extra Saturday detention still to do – but mellowed slightly when Lily promised that she would bring them back something.) and sat curled up in one corner, half-heartedly attempting some Charms homework.

James watched her, careful not to let the Prefect catch him at it, lest she break their truce and start yelling at him. He'd known Lily was the one for him for a long time – maybe even as early as second year – but he'd realised in the last week that he hardly knew her. Not really. Much of their conversation, if it could even be _called_ that, involved him trying in vain to ask her out and her yelling insults back at him. Not much of a relationship. He'd never really sat down and had a proper conversation with her: not with her being civil. And not, James realised, with him being himself, either.

'_James, you are such an idiot! You're never going to win her over if you act like such a complete prat!_'

Hermione's voice echoed through his head and he frowned. The time traveller was right. He _knew_ that his player attitude and casual humour infuriated Lily, but that was the only way he really knew how to act around her. Silently James blessed the time travellers – not that he was happy about the reason why they were sent back here – but because they had given Lily a chance to see a different side of him, a chance he may never have had otherwise.

Peter yawned loudly, pulling James out of his reverie. "I think I'm going to go to bed," Peter said, standing up and stretching out.

"Me, too," Remus said, doing the same. In all honesty James was surprised that the werewolf had lasted this long. But maybe Remus felt determined to show that he was not weakened by his condition. James shook his head. Did he honestly think they cared about that sort of thing? But James knew that it made Moony feel better, so he never said anything.

"Me three," Ron agreed, yawning and looking over at Harry. "You coming?"

"Er, yeah," Harry said, although he looked a bit fidgety.

Lily's suspicious gaze was back on them all. "What on _earth_ were you all doing last night?" she asked, eyes narrowed.

Sirius shot her a hurt look. "Now, Evans, what makes you think we were doing anything at all?" he asked, beaming puppy dog eyes at her. He sniffed. "Has it ever occurred to you that we just want to be nice and rested for tomorrow? It's like you don't trust us, or something."

Lily raised an eyebrow at him. "I will _never_ trust you, Black," she told him, grinning a little.

"How you hurt me... I think I shall go tend to my wounds in private," he informed her sorrowfully.

Lily just rolled her eyes at him.

"Prongs, you coming?" Remus asked, picking up his book.

James shot a hopeful look at Lily. If she was staying down here, maybe he wouldn't go to bed just yet. After all, it was only 8.30 and her friends were still in detention... maybe she would be glad of the company?

But, alas, some dreams are just not meant to be.

"We're going to go finish the Charms homework in the library," Hermione said, getting to her feet. Hermione had, somewhat tearfully, begged Professor Dumbledore to revoke the ban Madam Pomfrey had placed on her after they'd come round after fighting Past. He'd complied and now was the owner of a fine pair of shapeless woollen socks that Hermione had magically knitted for him in thanks. Unfortunately, where Madam Pomfrey was happy (well, resigned and somewhat grudging) to remove the ban on Harry, Ron, Hermione and Remus, she refused adamantly to do the same for James and Sirius, even after being bribed with some of Professor Dumbledore's finest lemon sherbets.

In other words, the library was the once place Lily could go that James couldn't follow.

Well, technically he couldn't go to the girls' loo either, but that at least didn't come with a magical ban.

"James, you coming?" Sirius repeated.

"Yeah, sure," James sighed and got to his feet.

He hoped that next week, when Gryffindor tower was once more filled to the brim with students each evening, Lily would still find some time to talk to him. As much as he liked arguing with her, he discovered he liked talking to her more. Then again, there was always tomorrow...

"James."

James paused at his name. He looked back over his shoulder to see Harry looking both nervous and determined. As he turned away from the staircase, James wondered how weird it was for Harry to have to call him by his name and not just Dad. '_But then,_' he considered, '_how weird it would be for me to be called Dad and not James?_'

"Yeah, Harry?" James considered his son. Harry still looked a little sorrowful, but it was now a healthy pain. When James thought back to just a week ago and that forced cheerfulness... he shuddered. Harry had come a long way since then. '_I suppose you don't have much of a choice if a god is trying to kill you over it._' Come a long way, yes, but there was still a way to go before he was back to his proper self.

Sometimes the amount of responsibility resting on James now was both worrying and exhausting. It was a bit of a leap to one day just be messing around with your friends, causing chaos, and the next to be trying to care for the traumatic emotional state of someone the same age as you. Not that he had any intention of going back on the promise he had made himself. It was just... well, hard.

"I, er... I wanted to ask you about becoming an animagus."

James' jaw dropped. "You what?"

"Well, we were talking about it last night," Harry said nervously. "And I wanted to ask you about it... do you think we could learn?"

Immediately James felt his face light up. '_Brilliant – this isn't Harry asking me to be his Dad... this is Harry asking me about being a Marauder!_' "Brilliant!" he said, grinning. "Of course you could learn!"

Harry immediately gave a relieved smile and James realised he had been worried that James would say no. '_Well, I may technically by his Dad, but I'm not a responsible adult just yet!_'

"I mean, I know it's really difficult," Harry added, "but I thought I'd ask you first on suggestions. I mean, you three did it when you were younger than us, so..."

"True," James agreed, "but it did take us two years and a lot of extra work. However, because you _are_ older you could probably do it quicker." He grinned. "Not to mention we had to hunt around for months just to find the right books – it being a highly regulated process, there isn't exactly an 'Animagus for Dummies' book in the Hogwarts Library."

Harry's face fell a little. "Where did you get them in the end?" he asked.

"Oh, a bit here, a bit there," James said offhandedly, "but you don't need to bother with all that."

"We don't?" Harry asked, confused. "How come?"

James grinned. "Wait here."

He turned and jumped up the stairs, feeling a lot more awake than he had done all day. Now _this_ was something that made him feel like James Potter, Marauder, again. Becoming an animagus was the greatest thing he had ever achieved – well, maybe that and creating the now lost Marauders Map – and now he had a chance to pass it on to his son. Belatedly James realised that this was maybe the only thing he would ever get to teach Harry, except possibly to say "Dadda".

As he stormed into the dormitory he was met by astonished stares from three pairs of eyes (Remus was already out for the count on his bed). "Did someone just give you a lethal injection of sugar or something mate?" Sirius asked, staring at him like he'd grown an extra head. "You were about ready to drop only two minutes ago."

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," James dismissed, flapping a hand at his best friend as he pulled open his trunk, searching for something inside. As he rifled through robes, socks, books, parchment, arm guards and dungbombs he felt the three of them gather behind him in silent confusion. He ignored them, hand finally latching onto the desired object. "Aha!"

"Hey, isn't that...?" Peter asked, staring at the small little black and purple book, but didn't have time to finish as James was off, whirling out of the room in much the same manner he had whirled in.

When he got back downstairs Harry looked up at him in some confusion... confusion which didn't diminish as James handed the book over.

"Oh... is this one of the books you found?" he asked, turning the little book over. It was fit to bursting with various wads of paper and splattered with ink of different hues.

"Nope. This," James said, grinning, "is our step by step diary of how we became animagi."

Harry gaped at him. "You serious?" he asked, now looking slightly more impressed with the tatty little book.

"Yep. We had to do so many things that we found we couldn't always remember what we'd done previously," James explained, moving over and flicking through the book. "It's all you need – plus it shows you were we went a little bit wrong, so you can avoid those mistakes and get it all done quicker."

Harry looked at him. "Isn't this a little... well, _dangerous?_" he asked, glancing at some of the pages. "You're illegal animagi, after all – what if someone got hold of this? It's conclusive proof that you'd all broken the law."

James shrugged. "Well, seeing as how you're taking it into the future and all where two thirds of us are dead I don't see how it matters. And, um," James went a bit red, "I was hoping that maybe... er, one day I could teach Lily."

He went from a little bit red to flaming scarlet as Harry laughed at him, but shook it off and laughed himself. "Well, at least I know I can pass the legacy down safely," he said, giving Harry a one armed hug. "Now, I know you have to most likely go out and battle evil and the such... but I'm not going to let you take it unless you promise me that you will use your form at _least_ once to scare the balls off Snivellus. Promise?"

"Promise," Harry said faithfully, eyes glinting mischievously.

"Now then, never tell your mother I said that," James told him, grinning. "Come on – to bed!"

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

**AN:**

Ok, I know, I know; it's been aaages. I can only apologise. Now I'm nearing the end of Ever After I really want to try and finish this one (especially as I have written more than I thought). I've stupidly lost my notes on what else is going to be done but as I've got a vague idea and it's the Christmas holidays I'm going to try really hard and finish this. Wish me luck! And thank you to everyone who has read this chapter despite it having been published nearly 10 years ago now. Parts of it make me cringe (majorly) but as my first fic I have a lot of love for it still. Hope you enjoyed reading this chapter

Love,

Hannanora-Potter

~x~x~x~


	20. In which there is a date and shopping

**Title:** Time is a Healer

**Summary:** Harry, Ron and Hermione are suddenly and inexplicably thrown into the Marauders' sixth year at Hogwarts. Delighted with this chance to meet his parents and reunite with the recently deceased Sirius, Harry soon starts to cut his ties for the future, leaving Ron and Hermione seriously worried. And what's the monster that's starting to stalk Harry?

**Timeline and Spoilers:** Books 1 through 5, at the beginning of Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts (very beginning)

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and any related characters and setting are all the property of J.K. Rowling and not me.

**Extra:** '_blah_' = thoughts

**This** **is a new chapter!** Yay! Hope you didn't get too lost by the reformatting :D

_**Chapter Twenty: In Which There is a Date**_

The next day dawned, to the misery of most Hogwarts students, cold, grey and pouring with rain. It was now the end of September and warm, dry weekends were going to be far and in between. Students who were previously looking forward to a day spent messing about on the Quidditch pitch or by the lake sat despondently under the equally wretched enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall, half-heartedly eating breakfast.

However, there were some spirits even the weather couldn't dampen.

"Zonko's, Zonkos, Zonkos, ZONKOS!"

"Look, Sirius, I know that we're all looking forward to today, but really?" Remus asked his friend, exasperated. It had only been a one night since the full moon and that wasn't exactly enough time to feel bright and sunny. He was having a hard enough time steeling himself to eat his porridge, let alone put up with a hyperactive Sirius. "Do you have to be so annoying?"

Said dog animagus stuck his tongue out at him. "Yes, I really, really do." He opened his mouth to say more, but found he couldn't due to the well-received _silencio_ Lily shot at him.

"Sorry," she said apologetically to the other Gryffindors (not Sirius, who was looking at her indignantly) as she and Hermione sat down. "I think it was either that or I murder him horribly before the hour is out and I don't particularly want to spend the next few years locked in Azkaban."

"No apologies needed, Lily," Remus said, grinning at Sirius, who was clearly trying to shout at them, but having no success. "I was about to stun him, actually, so I suppose he should be thankful that he can still go to Hogsmeade at all."

They all laughed at the grumpy look on Sirius' face. '_Ah..._' Remus thought to himself, taking another lumpy spoonful of porridge, '_blissful silence. Well, until he remembers that we can cast non-verbal spells now..._'

"What time we heading down?" Hermione enquired, wrinkling her nose as Ron managed to fit an entire sausage in his mouth. "Honestly, Ron, you're going to be sick if you don't eat properly."

"'Honestly', 'Mione," Ron imitated, rolling his eyes at her. "You sound just like Mum."

"Well, if you would just eat properly I wouldn't have to, would I?" Hermione retorted hotly, going red.

"Well, if _you_ – "

"How about in half an hour?" Harry asked loudly over Ron's snapped reply. Remus shot him a grateful grin as both Ron and Hermione immediately shut up. They were almost as bad as Sirius for causing headaches today. He supposed he should just thank Merlin that James and Lily seemed to be on civil terms today. Another one of Lily and James' epic yelling matches would be the _last _thing he needed.

"Half an hour's good," James agreed, casually flicking a piece of toast at Sirius. Sirius seemed to have decided that his currently silenced status was actually a good reason to insult the Slytherins with the most foul language he could think of with no consequences (Well, it was either that or he was still chanting 'Zonkos', it was hard to tell: lip-reading wasn't one of Remus' talents). Unfortunately, this meant that his mouth was wide open and aiming was certainly one of James' talents.

"Erm, Black is choking," Lily said, worried, as Sirius' face began to turn blue.

James rolled his eyes and flicked his wand at Sirius, vanishing the offending piece of bread. Sirius took a great gulp of air and then glared at James who went back to ignoring him. "I was _eating_ that, Potter!" he snapped before his eyes widened and everyone else groaned. Seemed like James had managed to remove the silencing spell as well as the toast.

"Zonkos, Zonkos, Zonkos…"

"James, you idiot," Remus groaned dropping his head into his hands. "I don't even know how you managed that."

James just shrugged and buttered his own slice of toast. Remus guessed he too didn't know how he'd removed Lily's spell but didn't like to say. Meanwhile Sirius was still continuing his mantra and was actually getting louder. "Sirius," Remus said loudly, "if you promise not to mention the name of that stupid shop again then I will buy you a whole case of dungbombs."

Sirius looked scandalised. "Zonkos is _not_ a stupid sh – wait," he stopped as his brain caught up with what Remus was saying. "A whole _case _of dungbombs?" he repeated going misty eyed. "I accept! Dungbombs, dungbombs, dungbombs – "

"I think he's broken," Lily said in a very loud whisper to Hermione who rolled her eyes.

"Mr Black, I do hope you're not intending to take advantage of this unexpected Hogsmeade visit to stock up on banned items?"

Whilst Remus and Lily had both been unable to stop Sirius Professor McGonagall was much more successful. As she towered over them, eyebrows arching sternly, Sirius just turned and flashed his best puppy-dog eyes look at her. "Who me, Professor? I would _never_ dare do such a naughty thing," he said innocently.

Whilst Sirius' puppy-dog eye beseeching look was the best Remus had ever seen – probably something to do with being a dog animagus – Professor McGonagall knew Sirius far too well to be fooled by it. That, or her own feline animagus form was offended by the canine expression, Remus wasn't sure. In any case McGonagall simply narrowed her eyes. "Be warned, Black, any hint, any _whiff_, of dungbombs in my castle and you'll be in detention from now until Easter." Her stern expression relaxed slightly and she gave the group a small smile. "Have a nice day you all."

"I didn't know McGonagall could _smile_," Sirius whispered loudly as the Professor retreated.

"So, half an hour?" Hermione said briskly as Lily opened her mouth to snap something back at Sirius.

"Oh, er, right," Harry said, getting to his feet. "I need to head off the Hospital Wing – I'll see you all in the entrance hall in a bit."

He didn't wait for them to say anything, just waved at them all and headed off. Remus felt sorry for him. He knew what it was like to have a medical condition that you felt awkward about. True, there was quite a large difference between being a werewolf and having a bleeding cut that worked as a magical grief indicator. Although he did think Harry's injury was rather more awkward right now than his own furry little problem. At least his friends _knew_ he was never going to get better. Even though they were trying to be cool and relaxed about it he could still feel the pressure from everyone, the expectations all aimed at Harry. And if _he_ could feel it then Harry undoubtedly could.

Poor guy.

"So, Hermione, you haven't forgotten about our hot date, have you?"

The afore mentioned girl spluttered as she drank from her coffee. Judging by the way her face went bright red, however, she inevitably hadn't.

"Wait; _you_ agreed to go on a date with dog for brains here?" Lily said incredulously.

"Dog? Me? I'm not a dog, no siree," Sirius rambled apprehensively but only succeeded in causing Lily to look at him strangely.

"Erm, Sirius, Lily already _knows _about Padfoot," Remus said.

Sirius looked a little abashed at that. "Oh. Yeah."

Lily just watched him incredulously. She turned back to Hermione and jerked a thumb at Sirius. "Seriously: you? And _him_?"

"Siriusly. Eh!" Sirius joked but aside from an exasperated glance everyone else just ignored him; they were too busy staring intently at the ever-growing-crimson time-traveller. Ron, Remus was interested to see, was the only one not smirking. Instead he was glowering angrily at his plate of food, ears glowing just as brightly as his hair.

"I would like to point out, Lily, that I never actually _agreed_ to go out with him," Hermione said awkwardly. She glowered at the plate. "I also didn't realise he'd remember. And worse; hold me to it, especially when he found out I'm… you know, from the future," she finished in a whisper.

"It _is_ a little creepy," Lily agreed, stirring some honey into her porridge. "I mean, technically, he's old enough to be your father-er…" she broke off awkwardly before realising Harry had gone.

"I am _not_ creepy," Sirius protested. "Besides, _technically,_ right here and now we're the same age, so there!" he finished sticking his tongue out at her. Lily just rolled her eyes and Sirius turned back to the still crimson Hermione. "So then; how about tonight for our big date? Say about 7? I'll meet you in the Common Room."

"No way, Sirius."

"Pleeeeaaseeee…."

"No."

And then, Sirius Black brought out the big guns; his puppy dog eyes.

They might not have worked well with McGonagall but Hermione hadn't had years to build up her immunity. She buried her head in her hands. "I'm not going to be able to get out of this, am I?" she groaned into the table.

"Nope," James said, trying not to laugh. Sirius looked offended, but decided on ignoring it in light of the bigger picture; getting his date.

"See you at seven then?" he repeated, grinning at Hermione.

His only response was Hermione banging her head on the table.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

"Where to first then?" Remus foolishly asked as soon as they had got to Hogsmeades main shopping street.

"Zonkos, Zonkos, Zonkos, Zonkos, ZONKOS!"

Everyone else glared at Remus who like quite abashed. "Way to go, Moony," James said, scowling.

Remus grimaced. "I did kind of ask for that one, didn't I? Sorry," he apologised, shrugging. "Shall we start heading over there then?" he asked, looking at the others.

Sirius had already gone.

"I'm not going to be walking down fresh smelling corridors until after Christmas, am I?" Lily asked wryly even as they began walking towards Zonkos.

"By which point he'll have a brand new consignment of dungbombs," James pointed out. "Probably the smell will linger until summer by which – "

"By which point he'll have yet more dungbombs to terrorise the school with," Lily continued with a sigh. "I get it."

James shot her a tentative look. "You know, Lily," he said slowly, "if you need someone to apply a bubblehead charm for you…"

Lily shot him a look but, whereas usually it would be a look of pure loathing, this time it was a look of amusement. "Need I remind you, Mr Potter, that I'm the best in our year at charms?" she said, smirking. "If anyone needed help with the bubblehead charm it would be you."

James brightened up at that. "Does that mean you're offering?" he asked hopefully.

Lily's confident smirk faltered as she realised what she'd said. Going red she soldiered on regardless. "Well, as doubtless you'll be Sirius' partner-in-crime then I think it rather fitting that you suffer the consequences if you can't apply a proper bubblehead charm."

Everyone laughed at that. "Well, Lily and I won't be joining you in Zonkos at any rate," Hermione cut in eventually. "Forgetting the fact that every single item in there is banned none of us can spend any money on non-school supplies."

Ron scowled at that reminder, but Harry just laughed. "True enough, Hermione, but miss out on seeing the Marauders in their natural habitat? I wouldn't miss _that_ for the world?"

Hermione and Lily both rolled their eyes at that one. "Well, I'm sure you'll have fun," Lily said doubtfully. "We're off to Tomes and Scrolls for our books."

"Good idea – get ours too?" Ron asked hopefully.

Hermione scowled at him. "Honestly, Ron," she snapped, "I'm not your house elf, or an owl postal service. You want your books then you can bloody well get them yourselves."

It was Ron's turn to scowl then. "Alright, Hermione, I was only asking."

"Come on, Hermione," Lily said, tugging at the other girls arm as Hermione opened her mouth for another snappy retort. Ironically, being part of the James-Lily mammoth rows that erupted constantly meant she was an expert at recognising when others were about to launch into a similar argument. "Let's leave the boys to their stupid toys."

Harry watched them going, feeling slightly torn. Whilst he wanted to see the Marauders in their 'natural habitat', like he had said, he also hadn't forgotten his resolution concerning Lily. This shopping trip seemed like it could be the perfect place for her and him to have a chat. And she was going to be in a book shop nonetheless, which seemed as though it were _her_ natural territory, as much as it was Hermione's.

'_I'll head over there after a bit,_' he promised himself even as he turned towards Zonkos with the others. '_I need to get my books, too, after all. I can get Ron's whilst I am at it, save him interrupting._'

Sirius was waiting impatiently outside for them all. "What the bloody hell took you all so long?" he grumbled, looking extremely put out. "I've been waiting here ages."

"Shut up, Sirius," Remus said, "you've been here two minutes if that."

"Yeah," Sirius agreed, "and that's ages. I want dungbombs!"

Remus sighed. Harry could tell he was regretting promising Sirius that particular present but as it had been either that or murder him horribly for being a pain in the arse then Harry thought dungbombs was better. "Come on then," Remus said, sounding defeated.

"Whoop!" Sirius said before dragging the reluctant Remus inside. "They've got these new kind that smell just like Myrtle's bathroom did when Peeves called her a 'whining, blotchy, contemptible excuse for a ghost'." His face took on a reverent glow. "That was absolutely beautiful."

"I think he means disgusting," Peter said to Harry and Ron with a grimace as they went through the door after the others. They both sniggered.

Even in the late 70s – and in the middle of a war, to boot – Zonkos was the busiest shop Harry had been in. Despite the fact that it wasn't a Hogsmeade visit for the main school there were a surprising amount of people perusing the store. Most of these were small excitable children accompanied by their rather dubious looking mothers. A few however were witches and wizards that looked to be in their early twenties, stocking up on a few novelty items here and there.

Busy or not, though, it still looked very different to the Zonkos that Harry and Ron knew. It was a lot smaller, to start with, and most of the products that were Zonkos staples were missing. The dungbombs that Sirius was mooning over with a resigned Remus were there of course, but the Fanged Frisbees, nose-biting teacups and Fillibuster Fireworks were conspicuously absent. In their place however some rather more unusual looking products that seemed to reflect the era they were in. In one place there was even a real whoopee cushion which made Harry stare.

"'Place on a chair and watch as I turn invisible. As your intended victim sits down they trigger a realistic farting noise, complete with smell. Perfect for your teachers,'" Ron read over Harry's shoulder. "Wicked!"

Harry looked at him in surprise before reminding himself that Ron knew next to nothing about muggles; he had no idea that a whoopee cushion was the most basic and overused practical joke ever invented. Although he had to admit that this version _did_ sound quite a bit better than the generic muggle version. '_And now I've got to wonder,_' Harry thought suddenly, '_who actually invented the whoopee cushion in the first place; muggles or wizards._'

James wandered over to see what they were looking at. "Oh, cool, the whoopee cushion," he said dismissively. "That got old about two years ago. Come look at these – they've just come out!"

James dragged them both over to a big flashing display. Harry blinked in surprise and tried not to laugh. Ron couldn't even manage that. "Sugar quills?" he snorted. "What's so amazing about them?"

James looked at him like he was crazy. "You joking, mate? Do you have any idea what this sugary delight could do for those tedious hours we call History of Magic lessons? The endless detentions we suffer? This. Is. Genius."

Harry and Ron exchanged glances. "I suppose it's better when the teachers have no idea what a sugar quill is," Harry said eventually. "It's one of the first things they check now."

"Except for Binns," Ron added unnecessarily. "But then we could horribly murder someone in one of his lessons and he wouldn't have a blinking clue unless we stabbed _him_ to death."

Remembering how Binns hadn't supposedly even really noticed when he'd died the first time Harry doubted he'd even notice that, except it would interrupt his lesson for a few minutes.

James looked thoughtful. "You know, I _know_ you're from the future but it's the little things that throw me." He sighed and looked at the sugar quill again. "I kind of don't want it now."

"Don't be stupid," Harry said. "Seriously, James, you'll only have a small window of opportunity before the professors catch on to what's happening. Take advantage of it while you can! In our time Sugar Quills aren't even sold by Zonkos anymore; Honeydukes sells them instead as novelty sweets."

James looked scandalised. "Well, that decides it!" he said and grabbed an armful. "Sugary detention heaven, here I come!"

"Hey, guys, look at this!"

Peter was in a side aisle, happily waving about some parchment paper. "What is it?" James asked curiously.

"It's magical parchment paper," Peter said gleefully, "that automatically changes any grade written on it into an O."

Harry and Ron blinked at that. "Bloody hell, that's genius!" Ron crowed, snatching up another copy to read the fine print.

James shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah, I guess, but it's not as though _I_ need to cheat to get an O on an exam," he said arrogantly.

Peter went pink and even Harry and Ron looked a little shocked. Remus, however, soon brought James down a peg or two. "Who got a T on their last potions essay?"

James immediately went bright red. "You know that doesn't count," he said, flustered. "It was _potions_ – and _Groll_, to boot. She despises me!"

"Know how that is," Harry confided to Ron with a smirk even as Remus continued to frown at the Marauder. "Even so, James, all you wrote for your 'essay' was "Poison tends to kill people. My advice? Don't drink it."" Remus shook his head mock wearily as everyone else laughed.

"Well, she always gives me a fail no matter how amazing an essay I write," James tried to defend himself. "So why waste time writing one when I could be planning another prank? Although," he added, looking suddenly thoughtful, "can you imagine her face if all she could do was give that essay an O?" He straightened up. "Peter, I've changed my mind; this _is_ genius!" And he dumped all his sugar quills on the surprised boy before grabbing several stacks of the enchanted parchment.

"Oi!"

Everyone turned and immediately started sniggering at the sight of a red-faced Sirius staggering under a small mountain of dungbombs that he had selected. "A little help here, please?" he pleaded, puppy-dog eyes at maximum.

"Padfoot, my dear, you _have_ heard of levitation charms, have you not?" James asked innocently.

Sirius stared at him, gobsmacked. "Bugger." He sighed. "Let me just get my wand…"

"No!" Harry and Remus yelled, but it was too late; the tower of dungbombs wobbled and then began falling.

"ABANDON SHOP!" James yelled, grabbing Harry's arm and yanking him out the doorway even as poisonous looking green vapour began to hiss from the pile of dungbombs that had previously been Sirius Black. As they tumbled out into the fresh sunny air a lone cry came from behind them.

"Noo! Guys, don't leave me; come BACK!"

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

Lily Evans sighed happily as she sipped on her butterbeer. It had been a good day so far in Hogsmeade. For a start, it had been nice to be able to peruse for a good book at her leisure; usually it was either crammed because it was a Hogsmeade weekend or she had Marlene and Alice whining at her to come with them to Gladrags. Not that Lily minded Gladrags, of course; she just didn't want to spend every waking second staring at various items of clothing.

Hermione was a good book-shopping companion even if she did get a bit confused by a lack of various titles they had in the future. They would umm and aah over various titles together and Hermione's opinions of the authors were actually valid, not just "Merlin, he's fit" or "Is she wearing green with orange?!"

After making the necessary (and unnecessary) purchases, the two finally _did_ head off to Gladrags. Hermione, after all, was surviving mainly on borrowed robes from the lost property cupboard and some of those were looking a little worse for wear even _before_ their run in with Past.

Thinking back on that Lily shuddered. It had been nearly a whole week since the incident but she still found it hard to get her head round. Strangely enough it was less hard to get her head around the fact that Harry was her son. '_Surely that should be more difficult?_' she wondered. Maybe it was something to do with the fact that he needed caring for – Lily was a natural at mothering people when needed. '_Scolding them too_,' she thought, thinking of James with a smile.

"What are you smiling at?" Hermione asked curiously, sipping her own butterbeer.

Lily heartily wished she wasn't so prone to blushing. "This past week," she said. Well, it wasn't exactly a lie. "It's been so… horrifying but amazing at the same time."

Hermione laughed at that. "I can imagine," she said. "It's not every day that you find yourself face to face with your teenaged son from the future."

"Or finding out you're dead, to boot," Lily added and then wished she hadn't as the mood noticeably darkened. "Sorry."

Hermione shrugged. "You don't need to apologise," she said sadly. "In fact, _we_ should be apologising; we never should have let all this slip out of the bag."

"If you hadn't then I don't think you would have been able to fight Past on your own," she pointed out. "And then Harry would be gone."

Hermione didn't say anything at that, just swirled around her butterbeer sadly.

Lily felt bad for dampening the atmosphere and hoped – possibly for the first time in her life – that the Marauders would get here soon.

Be careful what you wish for.

In a crash of opening doors and lots of laughter the group of six boys stumbled into the Three Broomsticks, pushing and shoving each other as Lily had noticed teenaged boys were wont to do. But the six boys weren't the _only_ things that came into the bar.

"Sweet Merlin!" Lily choked, feeling sick. "What is that horrendous _smell_?!" Hermione, beginning to look green, echoed her sentiments.

The boys all laughed although Sirius just looked grumpy. Not to mention strangely damp.

"You see," James drawled, "Sirius had a little… shall we say, _accident_?"

"Accident?" Hermione repeated, frowning.

They all started sniggering again. "Well, he kind of managed to get himself buried," Harry stared to explain.

"Under a pile of massive pile of dungbombs?" Lily guessed, fighting back a laugh. '_Oh, sod it, this is Black we're talking about, after all_,' she thought and started giggling. That set Hermione off and pretty soon all of them were laughing at a pouting Sirius.

"This is _not_ funny," he said, crossing his arms. "Not only did I have to pay for a load of dungbombs I can't even _use_ the owners of Zonkos hosed me down three times and I _still_ smell awful."

"Well, looks like our date's off for tonight then," Hermione said as regretfully as she could although she couldn't quite suppress the look of relief on her face.

Sirius looked offended. "Why?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "I swear you're not usually this idiotic," he commented mildly to no one in particular.

"Because, Sirius, you stink," Ron helped him out, trying not to laugh.

Sirius glared at him. "I have never let something as inconsequential as an unpleasant odour stop me from going on a date before," he said stuffily.

Lily pulled a face. "Ugh, poor girls," she said. "Sometimes I wonder quite where you got your reputation as a ladies man, Black."

"I didn't mean – argh!" Sirius cried, exasperated. "What I meant _was_ that, come seven o'clock this evening, I will be the most gentlemanly gentleman to ever walk the halls of Hogwarts AND," he carried on, glaring as Peter started to open his mouth, "I will smell like a field of daisies."

"Rotting daisies, maybe," Harry whispered to Lily who snorted. Sirius looked at them suspiciously but they looked back at him wide-eyed and innocent.

"Well, that's all very good Padfoot," James said, breaking the silence, "but you're going to have to sit somewhere else whilst we're in here because, right now, I'm having trouble staying conscious you stink so badly."

Sirius gaped at him like a fish as the rest of them tried not to snigger. Eventually Sirius' mouth closed and he scowled at them all. "Fine!" he said angrily. "Absolutely sodding _fine_ – I shall sit over here and think upon my woes whilst you enjoy yourselves without me."

"Yes, you go do that then," James said dismissively before turning to look at Lily with an awkward smile. "Mind if I sit there, please, Lily?"

Lily went slightly red at that. '_Did he just say please?! What _is_ the world coming to?_' she wondered even as she said yes. Behind James Sirius let out another angry snort and flounced away to sit on a table the other side of the room, in a mood almost as bad as he smelt.

His mood didn't improve when Madam Rosmerta sent him outside to be hosed down again.

"Aren't you worried he's going to, I don't know; get back at you somehow?" Lily asked James as Remus and Ron went to go and get some more butterbeers.

James shook his head dismissively. "Nah," he said and then, catching Lily's incredulous face, added, "What I mean is; sure, he'll get back at us, but I'm not worried about it. What's a little pranking between friends?"

"Er, right," Lily said, not really understanding at all. '_Boys are so weird,_' she thought. '_Or maybe it's just them._

'_It's probably just them.'_

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

'_I am going to _KILL_ Sirius Black._'

Hermione's mutinous thought was somewhat dampened by the logic of the reality that Sirius already _was_ dead, 20 odd years into the future, but for once in her life Hermione was quite happily ignoring logic. '_Kill him so dead he couldn't form a ghost, even if he wanted to._'

She'd already had a bad feeling about this 'date' before she'd even left her dormitory. She'd tried to get away with wearing just the same jeans and jumper she'd worn into Hogsmeade but once Marlene and Alice found out what she was doing ("Cheers, Lily," Hermione had muttered sarcastically) then nothing would stop them from giving her a complete makeover.

Now, it was a general rule in the wizarding world as Hermione had observed it, that no matter what the current fashion in the muggle world the witches and wizards of magical Britain stuck to the same robes, cloaks and hats that they always had. Not so, it seemed, with these particular teenage witches of Hogwarts. Once Marlene and Alice started discussing flared trousers and jump suits however Hermione rather wished she'd just borrowed dress robes from someone and been done with it.

Lily wasn't much use either; she quite gleefully began backing Marlene's most outrageous outfit plans which soon had Hermione wondering what she'd done to the other girl in the last day to make her hate her so. '_More likely,_' she thought miserably, '_it's her way of punishing me for being stupid enough to say yes to going on a date with as big a moron as Sirius._'

Finally, all the dizzying array of fabrics, bright colours and a worrying amount of glitter finished and Hermione was left standing in front of the mirror, Marlene and Alice looking expectant and Lily trying not to laugh.

"It looks very… nice," Hermione lied, feeling faintly horrified. Now she had never been a connoisseur of fashion even in the 1990s. For all she knew her current was the height of good style in the late 1970s.

Somehow she doubted it.

The one good thing she could say about everything was that they had more or less left her hair alone. Marlene had at one point suggested giving her an afro but luckily even the evil Lily had been opposed to that. Her legs were encased in white satin trousers that flared massively at the bottom but were very tight on her thighs. And to make matters worse they were quite liberally embedded with rhinestones all over the place. And on top…

"I don't think I'm comfortable with showing that much skin," she said, staring in horror at the cropped halter neck top one of the girls had forced her into. Aside from the fact that it was pink – very much _not_ a Hermione colour – it exposed rather a lot of her stomach and back.

Marlene looked insulted. "It's the height of fashion," she said, crossing her arms. "And it _is_ a date."

"Shut up, Marly," Alice said, softly hitting her friend in the arm. "I told you it was too much. Here, Hermione, have this one of mine."

Marlene pouted as Hermione swapped the tops over. Alice's was much better although it was dripping with glitter left right and centre. "Just trying to introduce a bit of Parisian glamour," Marlene said sulkily as Hermione said her thanks to Alice.

Hermione chose not to comment on that.

"Well, _I_ think she looks fabulous," Lily said sweetly. "Even if she _has_ agreed to go on a date with the most idiotic, immature, womanising git in the school."

'_Yep, that's definitely why I'm being _punished_,_' Hermione thought with a sigh.

"I thought this date was with Sirius, not James," Alice whispered loudly to Marlene who sniggered.

Lily glared at them. "I was _talking_ about Black!"

"But aren't those the exact same words you always use to describe James though?" Marly asked with wide-eyed confusion.

"Well… yes, I _do_, but – "

"So that means you think there's someone who's _worse_ than Potter?" Alice interrupted with a knowing smile.

"I – you – well," Lily spluttered, pink faced. She finally gave up and huffed angrily. "You know what; they're just as bad as each other. And shouldn't we be sending Hermione down to greet her paramour?" she added hurriedly as Marlene opened her mouth to make another snarky comment.

Hermione, who had been taking advantage of the girls' distraction to subtly magically vanish some of the glitter, glared at the unapologetic Gryffindor as the two girls squealed.

"Oh, of course, of course!" Alice said, clapping her hands together enthusiastically. "And look at that; it's nearly seven!"

"Wait; we haven't given her any shoes!" Marlene said suddenly.

"Don't worry; I've already found the perfect pair," Lily said sweetly and Hermione immediately felt a sense of foreboding. As Lily presented the shoes Hermione felt her dread was completely justified.

"I am _not_ wearing those," she said firmly, glaring at the innocent Lily even as Marlene danced about happily. "I'll break my ankles!"

"Well you _can't_ wear your ratty school shoes," Marlene said, frowning at her. "Honestly, don't tell me you've never worn platforms before."

"Erm…"

"Come on; let me."

And then, before she really realised what was happening, Hermione found herself being forced into the ridiculous shoes. She half felt as though she should be cursing her housemates – or throwing them out and locking herself in the dorm and refusing to come down – but managed to refrain. '_Well, I _am _the idiot who agreed to go on this _stupid _date,_' she told herself miserably before finding herself being yanked upright and several inches taller than before. Then, before she had time to even catch her breath, she was being herded out the door and down the stairs with lots of chatter, yet _more_ glitter and even, she swore, some evil cackling coming from Lily.

All in all then, it didn't come as a surprise as everyone in the common room was staring at them as they came down the stairs.

'_Somebody kill me now_.'

"Wow, Hermione, you look… interesting."

Hermione had never wanted to slap Harry so much in her life. He had literally bounded up to her, the grin on his face so wide that it threatened to split his face in two.

"Harry James Potter," she hissed, furious, "this is all _your_ fault!"

"My fault?" Harry repeated innocently. "But Hermione, I can't – "

"Just don't," Hermione cut him off exasperated. "If you hadn't encouraged him then _none_ of this would be happening!"

She didn't think it possible for Hermione's grin to get any wider. '_Damn him!_'

"Hermione! My dew drop!"

'_This is not happening, this is _not_ happening…_'

Plastering a probably wholly unconvincing smile on her face, Hermione turned to meet her 'date' and scowled. She felt more than a bit annoyed that he'd managed to get away with just dress robes whilst _she_ looked like she was fresh out of Saturday Night but there was nothing to be done about that. She begrudgingly admitted that he did look quite nice – very nice – in his outfit but that did nothing to her desire to slap him in the face.

She felt rather gratified that he still smelt slightly.

"Shall we, my lady?" he asked with an over the top bow and many arm flourishes. Hermione went red as everyone around her either sniggered or sighed dreamily. '_It's not too late,_' she told herself nervously. '_I can still run up to the dorms and hide till Harry gets better…_'

She sighed wearily. "Lead on, Sirius."

'_I should have run whilst I still could,_' Hermione thought, cringing with embarrassment. For where had Sirius taken her on this stupid date of theirs? Not the astronomy tower, the grounds or even the kitchen. He had taken her for a picnic.

In the Great Hall.

Hermione wasn't quite sure how he'd managed to pull it off; the room certainly looked no wider than before but somehow, between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables Sirius had managed to squeeze out enough room for a red and gold spotted picnic blanket where he had led the mortified Hermione to many sniggers and catcalls from the rest of the school. To make matters even worse (if that was possible) he had enchanted small confetti hearts to drift slowly down on them in a manner of what reminded Hermione of Lockhart's Valentine's Day celebrations.

She didn't know if it was better or worse that the remaining Marauders, Harry, Ron, Lily, Marlene and Alice had all grabbed seats on the table closest to them. Probably worse; she had already overheard several loud jokes at Sirius expenses and every so often would catch one of their laughing eyes. Only Ron seemed unhappy and he spent the whole time glaring at her which wasn't exactly an improvement.

"You know, Hermione, this _is_ a date; you should relax a bit more."

Hermione turned to glare at Sirius. "Relax?" she repeated incredulously. "Are you joking? How am I supposed to relax with the _whole school laughing at us_?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "They're not _all_ laughing at us," he dismissed, popping a grape into his mouth.

"Yes, Sirius, they are."

"Oh." Sirius shrugged. "Doesn't mean we can't still have a good time. Jeffers!"

Much to Hermione's surprise a small Gryffindor, dressed in plain black robes and with a pristine white cloth folded over his arms, popped up at Sirius' elbow. "Yes, Mr Black," he said in a squeaky voice that made Hermione suspect he was a first year.

As Hermione gaped at 'Jeffers' Sirius barked out an order at him. "Jeffers, go check the tables and tells us what's on the menu tonight."

"Right, sir" Jeffers squeaked and then proceeded to try and fight his way through the guffawing Gryffindors for a look at the table.

Hermione couldn't believe this was happening to her. She was the most logical, smartest witch in her year yet she couldn't think of a single way to get out of this nightmare without simply screaming and running out of the hall.

Or kill Sirius.

Jeffers popped back up at Sirius' elbow looking a bit the worse for wear. "The, er, menu for tonight is sausage casserole, beef pie or… um, some chicken thing," he panted.

Sirius scowled at the vagueness of that but tried to smooth the expression before he looked across at Hermione. "Well?"

"I… erm…"

"Jeffers – go get us some pumpkin juice whilst my lady decides."

"Yes, sir."

"Sirius, you can't just order him around!" Hermione said exasperated as poor Jeffers disappeared once again.

Sirius shrugged. "He's just a first year," he started.

"That makes it even worse!"

" – and it's not like I'm not giving him something in return," he continued, flicking some valentine hearts off his shoulder.

That made Hermione feel better. A bit better. "You're paying him?" she queried.

Sirius made a face. "Sort of," he said. "I'm going to acknowledge him in the corridors now."

"You're going to…" Hermione repeated faintly, feeling incredulous and furious at the same time.

CRASH!

Jumping, Sirius and Hermione looked around to see poor Jeffers, dripping with pumpkin juice from head to toe, a rapidly emptying jug of pumpkin juice by his feet. Everyone laughed and broke into applause whilst poor Jeffers went bright red. Sirius swore and pulled Hermione to her feet. She was confused for a moment before Sirius hastily grabbed their picnic blanket off the floor before the newly formed stream of pumpkin juice could reach them. "Bloody hell, Jeffers!" he swore, glaring at the poor boy. "Just ruin everything why don't you?"

Hermione had had enough.

"Sirius Black!" she snapped angrily. He jumped and looked over at her.

"It wasn't my – "

"Yes, it was!" Hermione corrected, giving up on being nice to him. She gave him a glare that she pretty sure even Voldemort would be proud of. "I don't know what I was thinking when I agreed to this but forget it; I'm leaving!"

Sirius looked at her mournfully. "Is it because I still smell?"

"It is _because_," she snapped, clenching her fists, "I have never been so embarrassed in all my life and _because_ you are an arrogant, self-absorbed idiot!"

And she turned on her heel and walked away. '_I am never going to live this down,_' she thought miserably, wondering what had happened to nice, sensible Hermione. '_She felt sorry for the idiot, that's what happened to her,_' Hermione thought with a sigh. As she left the Great Hall to cheers, laughter and cat calls she wondered whether it was possible to obliviate everyone in the school to forget that had ever happened.

But finding a way to create mass amnesia was a problem for another day. All Hermione wanted to do right now was get back to the dorm room, kick off Lily's ridiculous platforms and sleep for twenty years.

And if she was really lucky, something drastic would come along and wipe away the memories of everyone in the school whilst she slept.

Yeah. Right. When was her luck ever that good?

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

**AN:**

I know Hermione is a bit (very) OOC for the date. I'm trying to write based on notes I did for this about 5 years ago so it's a little difficult for me (although it's my own fault). I hope you liked the shopping trip though. And if you're wondering about the Harry/Lily conversation then Harry planned on talking to Lily but got a little side-tracked with the whole Sirius/dungbomb incident. That talk is still on his mind though and will happen next chapter.

Oh and sorry if you got a little lost with the reformatting!

Thanks for reading,

Hannanora-Potter

~x~x~x~


	21. In which Time makes an appearance

**Title:** Time is a Healer

**Summary:** Harry, Ron and Hermione are suddenly and inexplicably thrown into the Marauders' sixth year at Hogwarts. Delighted with this chance to meet his parents and reunite with the recently deceased Sirius, Harry soon starts to cut his ties for the future, leaving Ron and Hermione seriously worried. And what's the monster that's starting to stalk Harry?

**Timeline and Spoilers:** Books 1 through 5, at the beginning of Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts (very beginning)

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and any related characters and setting are all the property of J.K. Rowling and not me.

**Extra:** '_blah_' = thoughts

**This is the last chapter! Just an epilogue to go which will be up in a couple of days :)**

_**Chapter Twenty One: In Which Time Makes an Appearance**_

A sudden roar from the crowd jumped Harry out of his memories. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs of the past although it would take a lot to wipe the grin off his face from that last memory. Hermione had refused to come out of her room for the whole of Sunday after that. Typically, Sirius had just carried on as though nothing had happened. Harry rather thought _that_ had frustrated Hermione more than anything else.

"They're announcing the Slytherin team!" one of the chasers said suddenly.

Sirius turned back to grin at Harry. "Almost time to whip some Slytherin butt."

Harry grinned at him, trying to squash down the nerves that had flared up once again. Sure, James' broom was nothing on his Firebolt or even his Nimbus, but it was good enough for today. Quidditch practices had intensified over the past week as James, still the Captain even if he wasn't playing, had begun to take on a Wood-like manic quality about him.

It had made making time catching up with Lily like he wanted more difficult. It didn't help that she seemed to be indebted in some way to Hermione, following her around apologetically for the whole week. In between Quidditch practices, homework, medical appointments and lessons however, he had managed to snag one small moment.

"_Hi, Lily."_

_Lily looked up surprised and then smiled when she realised it was Harry. "Hello, Harry. You ok?"_

_It was Wednesday afternoon and a rare free period for some of the sixth years. Hermione had dragged a rather unwilling Ron to the library to conduct some exhausting research for their essay on veritaserum for Groll. She had asked Harry but he had declined. _

_Harry wasn't sure where the Marauders were; Sirius had muttered something about Snape. He had been teasing Sirius all week about his failed date with Hermione and it seemed that Sirius had finally snapped. Harry had been tempted to go with them as well but he had to admit he felt a little uneasy about playing a prank on his future Potions master. He seemed to have forgotten how disgusted he was with his father when he saw that memory in Snape's pensieve. To be fair to Snape, he _had_ provoked them a lot, but that was still no excuse. He already felt guilty about the pranks he had already taken part in so far. He hoped to Merlin that Snape wouldn't remember them when they got back to the future. He was already nasty enough to Harry as it was._

_So instead he had spied out Lily sitting in the corner, engrossed in a book. Marlene and Alice were laughing in a corner with Frank and some of his friends, leaving his mother entirely free._

"_I'm fine, Lily, thanks," Harry said. "Can I join you?" He winced at how formal that sounded._

_Lily didn't seem to mind. "Of course," she said and shifted one of her books off the chair next to her._

"_Thanks."_

_After he had sat down, however, Harry couldn't think of anything further to say. Lily just watched him as he shifted awkwardly for a few minutes. "Er, what are you reading?" he asked in the end._

_Lily smiled. It's a book on constructing charms."_

"_Constructing charms?" Harry repeated confused. He hadn't heard it put that way before. "Is that a way of charming objects?"_

"_Not exactly," Lily said. "It's about creating your own spells. I was thinking about going into that field after Hogwarts."_

_Harry raised an eyebrow, impressed. "That sounds pretty complicated."_

"_I suppose so," Lily shrugged, "but it's also fascinating. A combination of runes, arithmancy and wandwork; a real challenge."_

"_You sound just like Hermione," Harry said with a laugh. "I didn't realise you could have a job making new spells."_

_Lily grinned at him. "You thought spells just popped up out of nowhere?" she teased._

_Harry went red. "Guess I didn't really think about it at all."_

"_To be honest I didn't either," Lily confessed, "not until I started researching different job opportunities. Research just appealed to me." She looked at him. "Have you thought about what you want to do?"_

"_An auror," Harry said immediately._

_This time it was Lily who raised an impressed eyebrow. "And here I was thinking you were going to say a professional Quidditch player." She scowled. "Pretty sure that's what James wants to be."_

_Harry shifted. "Actually, I don't know what James did – or you – but I don't think he was a Quidditch player," he said. "The wizarding world is at war. I think James would do anything he could to help with that effort." He bit his lip before he added something in about the Order of the Phoenix. They hadn't exactly been as strict about revealing the future as Hermione had wanted, but they had to draw the line somewhere._

_Lily sighed. "I suppose you're right." At Harry's surprised glance she elaborated. "I guess I was stuck with this particular image of James. Our first meeting wasn't exactly… a good one."_

"_Oh?" Harry immediately perked up. He'd never heard how his parents first met._

_Lily pulled a face. "He spilt a THING on me," she said. "And it didn't just make a mess; it stained my skin blue and gave me boils. It wasn't even an accident and then stood there laughing at me in front of me." She scowled. "It was my first day at Hogwarts and I spent most of it crying in the girls toilets. I never forgave him for that."_

_Harry winced. "You're right… that's pretty bad."_

_She sighed again. "I didn't speak to him or even acknowledge him for the next few years," she continued. "I was so humiliated and he didn't even care. He just carried on with his equally annoying friends, still playing jokes on everyone they could. And then, suddenly, in fourth year he seemed to notice me again." She threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. "He didn't seem to remember about our first meeting at all, or realised that I'd spent the last three years watching him and despising him." She grimaced. "Hate is such a hard thing to try and pull yourself out of, especially," she admitted, "when the object of your hate isn't exactly what or who you thought they were."_

_Harry wasn't quite sure what to say to that. "Everyone does stupid things when they're younger," he said, half-feeding back to Lily the same line Sirius had told him when he had fire-called him about his parents behaviour._

"_I didn't," Lily said with a scowl._

_Harry smiled ruefully. "No, I didn't either," he admitted, "but I wasn't brought up like James. Far as I can tell he was horribly spoiled by my grandparents."_

"_And he doesn't have a little sister that hates you with every inch of your being to bring him back down to ground either," Lily said with a sigh. She shot a sly look over at Harry. "What's she like? Petunia, I mean; in the future?"_

_Harry tried to keep his face as emotionless as possible. "She's… happy, I think," he said as truthfully as possible. "She's married, got a house she takes great pride in and a son – Dudley – that she loves."_

_Lily studied his face carefully. "But she hates you just as much as she hates me," she stated. Apparently Harry wasn't too good at hiding his emotions._

"_A little bit."_

"_Ugh." Lily groaned and put her head in her hands. "I feel so awful. Not only do I go and die and leave you orphaned I let my own conflict with my sister get taken out on you. Some mother _I_ am," she muttered._

"_You're missing out the part where you gave your life to save mine," Harry pointed out softly. He wasn't quite sure how their conversation had taken such a serious turn. "And that protection is still working. It saved me four years ago and will probably save me again in the future." He left out the part where Voldemort had managed to circumvent that by using Harry's blood. Lily didn't really need to hear that._

"_Really?" Lily lifted her head up from her hands and stared hopefully at him._

"_Really," Harry confirmed and then grinned. "So… when are you going to tell James that you like him?"_

_Lily's smile immediately turned into a scowl and she threw a cushion at his head. "Shut up, Harry!"_

Harry smiled. The rest of the evening had mainly consisted of Harry winding Lily up about James although he had found it a lot less fun when the tables turned and Lily was suddenly asking _him_ about all his crushes. He had rather hurriedly faked a yawn at the point and pretended he was heading to bed.

Whatever the Marauders revenge on Snape was it had yet to surface, something that made Harry rather nervous. He and the rest of the sixth year Gryffindors had been walking around on tiptoes just in case the Marauders had planned something that would impact on them all. Lily, rather typically, had gone to yell at Sirius that if anything happened to Snape she would put him in detention until Christmas.

In typical Sirius fashion all he had done was blink up innocently at her. "Who, me?"

And speaking of Sirius…

"Ow!" Harry rubbed his arm and glared ruefully at Sirius. "What the bloody hell was that for?"

"You were daydreaming," Sirius retorted. "And if you want to miss your name call for your debut Quidditch match then that's fine – don't blame me!"

Harry was about to respond when the hatch in front of them dropped down. The noise of the crowd suddenly amplified by a thousand and Harry felt all his earlier nerves rushing back.

"And here we have your Gryffindor team! Crawley, Edmonds, Slatters, Bode, Black, Damon aaand Potter!"

'_Well, here goes nothing,_' Harry thought and he kicked off from the ground.

Match time.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

"Where is he?"

"Can you see him?"

"I can! There he is!" Everyone followed James' pointing finger as he spied Harry shooting out from the stands on James' own broom. James felt an odd sense of pride when he watched Harry flying, one that had been building all week. He knew he hadn't technically taught Harry to fly – he had been long dead by the time he was old enough – but he couldn't deny Harry must have inherited his skills. He must have gotten something from Lily too, though, as the boy was a better flyer than him by far.

"He should be playing professionally," he commented to no one in particular as he watched Harry perform a few loop de loops to let off steam before the match officially started.

Someone laughed and he turned, quite astonished to see Lily sat next to him. "That's what I told him you'd say," she commented to him as amiably as can be.

That whole side of James had gone tense. Lily was sitting next to him. BY CHOICE. "Er… what?" he asked, blindsided.

"Oh, I asked him what he wanted to be when he left Hogwarts," Lily explained. "I thought he was going to say a Quidditch player – that's what _you_ would say in any case – but he said he wanted to be an auror."

"An auror?" James repeated, not sure whether to be terrified or impressed. An auror wasn't exactly the easiest of life styles.

She laughed. "Yes, I was surprised too."

They sat in companionable silence for a while, the others around him cheering like crazy. Ordinarily James would be the one screaming the loudest but all he could concentrate on was the fact that Lily was still sat beside him. What did she want?

"How come you came down, Lily?" he asked as casually as possible.

She mock glared at him. "Do you or do you not remember us having this conversation before?" she asked. "He's my son, too – of course I'm going to watch him play."

Belatedly that particular conversation came back to him and he grinned. "Well, let's just hope for civility's sake that no one decides to vanish Harry's bones this particular match."

She shot him a quick grin even as she turned back to the action. Referee Coulton had called all the players together and Crawley, temporary Captain whilst James was out of commission, was shaking the Slytherin captain's hand. Harry was standing behind the other Gryffindor players, eying the opposing seeker carefully.

"Three, two, one!"

As the quaffle flew up into the air James whooped as one of his chasers immediately swooped down and snatched it from under the opposing players nose. "Good snatch!" he called out as play set into motion.

"What's Harry doing?" Lily asked, screwing up her eyes to see him better.

"He's circulating, searching for the snitch," James explained, tearing his eyes away from the pitch. "Most seekers keep out of the way of the main action in case they get hurt or distracted."

Lily shuddered. "Quidditch always sounds so dangerous."

James shrugged. "That's because it is. Er, what I mean to say is," he backtracked quickly at Lily's raised eyebrow, "is that it's… um, _challenging_ and, er, exciting and… um, challenging – "

"You said challenging twice," Lily said, voice tinged with amusement.

James scowled. "Well, it is."

Lily grinned before her smile faded away and she looked thoughtful. "Is that – is that what you want to do?" she asked tentatively. At James' puzzled look she elaborated. "Be a professional Quidditch player, I mean?"

James glanced at her, not sure whether to be suspicious or excited about her sudden interest in him. Usually all she did was yell at him but, if James had anything to say for Past, it was that it had forced Lily to spend time with him. '_And speaking of the past, let's look at the future,_' James thought optimistically, '_some day in the future she will end up liking me – marrying me, even – why can't that start now?_'

Going back to Lily's question, James tried to think of a response. It was true that, for a long time, being a Quidditch star was all that he wanted to be. The fame, the glory, the excitement… what more could anyone want? He was pretty sure, knowing Lily as he did, that this attitude was one that would disgust her. Luckily for him, he didn't have to bear her scorn or lie to her about it. James wasn't sure when or why but at some point the idea of becoming a famous Quidditch star had lost its appeal.

"I don't really know what I want to do," James said slowly. "Quidditch is fun, yes… but what with Voldemort and the attacks…" He sighed. "I think I'd end up hating myself if I sat on a broomstick for a few hours a day whilst all around me people were dying and I could do something to help but didn't."

Lily didn't say anything, just watched him carefully. "That's… I'm impressed, James," she said eventually. At his surprised look, she shot him a small smile. "And I guess Harry was right."

"Harry?"

"When we were talking. He said… he said you might surprise me," Lily said with a wry smile.

"Oh."

They sat in silence for a while as the Quidditch game carried on above them. But, for once, James couldn't follow the whirling mess of chasers, beaters, Bludgers and Quaffle. His mind was far too occupied with the red head sat down next to him and the conversation they'd just had. He hardly noticed when the Gryffindor chasers scored the first goal of the match or when the Slytherins reciprocated. He didn't cheer when a well-timed bludger from his best friend stopped the Slytherins scoring a second or join in the celebrations when Gryffindor scored again. He had far more important – and terrifying – things to think about.

"Lily… I was wondering… would you like to go on the next Hogsmeade weekend with me?"

And, for the first time in his life, James' proposal was not met with an outright objection. He hardly dared look at her, he was so nervous. He'd never been nervous about asking Lily out before, not since the first couple of times. An invitation had always been thrown in with an air of humour, already expecting a denial so it had never surprised or hurt him.

This time was different.

'_What's taking her so long?_' James thought, insides twisting. He still couldn't bear to look at her, not ready to see the rejection on her face before he heard it. '_Maybe she didn't hear me… it is quite noisy… oh Merlin, what if she _didn't_ hear me and I'm just sitting here like an idiot… maybe I should ask again. But then what if she _did_ hear me and I repeat the question and just look like an idiot…_'

"Ok."

'_Crap, I'm going to have to look at her… please don't say no, please don't say – wait!'_

"James, didn't you hear what I said?"

James whirled round to stare at Lily, shocked. "I – I – you said… ok?!"

Lily smiled although she looked embarrassed. "Yes, I did," she confirmed, "_but_ this is just a – a trial run," she warned him. "The first sign of you doing anything stupid or… _James_-like that's it."

"O-okay," James said, still completely astonished. That astonishment was beginning to fade however and be replaced with a heady combination of excitement and joy. '_She said yes! SHE SAID YES! Merlin, Merlin, what will I do? What if I do something wrong – what if she goes back to hating… bloody hell, may be this is a bad idea after all._'

At that he gave himself a little shake. '_Don't be such an idiot, Potter,_' he told himself firmly. '_She ends up marrying you, doesn't she?_ _It will all be fine. Perfect even._'

He sat back in his seat, supressing his nerves as best he could, focussing instead on the positive. Lily had agreed to go on a date with him after three long years. Things were looking up.

"Lily? Want to hold hands?"

"Drop dead, Potter."

Well… sort of up.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

Harry hovered above the main action, cheering with the crowd as Gryffindors keeper had stopped Slytherin from scoring. Both teams seemed to be quite evenly matched so far, Gryffindor only just pulling ahead by that one goal.

"And it's sixty-fifty after that excellent goal for Gryffindor by temporary Captain Crawley! Play resumes, Slytherin in possession."

As he scoured the sky for the elusive golden snitch Harry couldn't help but reflect on the differences between this Quidditch game and countless ones he had played against Slytherin in his own time. What was most surprising was the relative lack of cheating by the Slytherin team. Given that, mostly thanks to the Marauders, the enmity between the two houses was greater than it was in his time, this surprised Harry immensely.

'_Although 'relative' amount of cheating is still quite a lot of cheating,_' Harry thought with a wry grin as one of the opposing beaters managed to his Sirius with his bat instead of the bludger.

"Slytherin beater Thackery commits a foul on Gryffindor beater Black," the commentator said. "Referee Coulton awards Gryffindor free shot."

Harry winced. Whilst the lack of cheating was a welcome change, the commentator was less so. He wasn't sure who it was, but with the almost complete lack of emotion he wouldn't be totally surprised if it was a teacher. Harry was also pretty sure if Lee Jordan had been there he would have been weeping.

'_Wait… what's that?_' Harry thought suddenly, sharp eyes catching sight of something glinting. '_Is that the snitch?_'

It was! It was hovering just above and slightly behind the teachers' stand. Harry casually flew off in the wrong direction, trying to see if the Slytherin seeker had seen it without looking like he was. This was part of what he loved about the game. It wasn't just the adrenaline rush of insane dives and the exhilaration of dangerous flying. Being a seeker meant playing mind games with your opponent as much as the race to the finish. It was only as he grew older and more experienced in the game that he learned to appreciate that aspect.

The Slytherin seeker hadn't seen the snitch. He was watching and cheering as his team mates scored another goal, drawing them even with their rivals.

The timing was perfect.

Still flying casually Harry began to drift towards the teachers stand, pretending he was watching the match whilst keeping an eye on the fluttering snitch in the corner of his eye. It wasn't easy; it took every ounce of his control not to shoot off towards it immediately. For the first time that match Harry was immensely glad he was on James' old broom and not his Firebolt. Whilst his broom outstripped everyone else's by a long shot, it was very sensitive, almost as though reading his mind. If he had been on it then jerky spurts of movement towards the snitch would have given him away a long time ago.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of agonising progress, Harry deemed himself to be close enough to throw off the cloak of secrecy. Giving up all pretence at casualness, he sharply angled the broom towards the snitch and shot off as fast as he could.

The wind rushing and whistling past his hair, it still wasn't enough to block out the sudden surge of noise from the crowd when they realised what he was doing. He didn't look to see if the Slytherin seeker was pursuing. Aside from the fact that he was too far away, Harry couldn't afford to take his eyes off the still tiny snitch.

Despite his attention, however, we couldn't help seeing the apprehensive or even horrified looks the various teachers in the stand were wearing. Harry couldn't blame them – at his current trajectory it did look as though he was going to crash straight into the stand. Groll in particular looked panicked. He couldn't help a grin at that. He'd tried to stay under her radar but he had to admit the idea of scaring her a little bit was extremely appealing.

'_Nearly there, nearly there,_' Harry thought, eyes completely focussed on the snitch again. In one more second he'd be there…

'_Looks like Firebolts aren't they only things that read minds,_' Harry thought with a groan as the snitch suddenly darted upwards. Luckily he was not the youngest seeker in a century for no reason. The broom echoed Harry's groan but shot upwards nonetheless, narrowly avoiding flattening the aforementioned Groll.

'_Where is… there!_'

And, with his trusty reflexes, his hand snapped out and snatched the victory for Gryffindor.

"Yes!"

He was immediately beset upon by the rest of his Gryffindor team mates in a mess of yelling and cheering. Sirius was so excited that he accidentally-on-purpose dropped his beaters bat as he clapped Harry on the back. He doubted it was coincidence that said bat fell on a rather windswept Groll.

"Well done, Harry!" he yelled, words loud even above the roar of the Gryffindors. "Catching the snitch and knocking out Groll – perfect execution."

Harry frowned at Sirius even as he laughed. "I think you'll find all I did was knock her _down_ accidentally," he corrected. "You were the one who knocked her out!"

Sirius shrugged, still grinning. "Potatoe, potahto." He pulled on Harry's arm to get him away from the stands. "Come on, let's get down to the ground. Sure everyone's waiting."

And everyone was. Hermione and Ron, of course, were on him in a shot. Peter and Remus offered their congratulations, whilst Sirius loudly teased James about being permanently replaced.

"Shut up, Sirius," James said eventually with a laugh. "Seriously though, well done, Harry."

"I don't really know anything about Quidditch," Lily added with a grin, "and even _I_ thought that was amazing."

"Thanks," Harry said, beaming. It was first and probably last time he'd ever be congratulated by his family. For the first time that trip however that thought brought only acceptance rather than a numbing sadness.

Sirius laughed. "Just 'thanks', he says," Sirius said. "He really _is_ completely different to you James."

James rolled his eyes but, much to everyone's surprise, it was Lily who came to his defence. "Maybe not completely different," she said, blushing when everyone stared at her.

"Don't tell me you're actually starting to like this moron?" Remus asked, eyebrows raised.

"Hey!"

Lily shrugged. "Maybe he's not such an egotistical git as I thought before. But anyway," she continued, pink faced as everyone continued to stare, "wasn't this moment about Harry winning the match?"

"Oi! What about me?" Sirius asked as everyone turned and grinned at Harry again.

"You played very well as well, Sirius," James said, patting Sirius on the arm patronisingly. "And I have to give you kudos for knocking out Groll."

"That was some of my finest work," Sirius concurred with a dramatic little sniff.

Lily rolled her eyes this time. "Great; so Black damages a teacher whilst Harry employs great skill and restraint to win the Quidditch match for the team. Remind me whilst we're congratulating Sirius again?"

Sirius pouted as the others laughed but even he couldn't look sulky for long. "Oh, who am I kidding?" he said eventually. "That was a great piece of flying, Harry."

"Thanks," Harry said, feeling oddly satisfied in some way. He knew that Sirius had seen him fly before, but there was a world of difference between watching a Quidditch match as a dog surrounded by dementors and a raging thunderstorm and watching a Quidditch match in the chilly sunshine as part of the same team. This time the compliment felt more meaningful and Harry accepted it with no twinge of grief or sadness, only pride.

"So, do you think you'll be on hand to tackle the Puffies? Harry?"

But Harry couldn't hear Sirius. He could hardly even move. As soon as Sirius had started speaking a strange sensation had spread through his hands and up through his body. It started as a river of heat before turning to a paralysing ice.

Harry could only move his head up just enough to stare at everyone else in shock before something hooked around his stomach and he felt himself travelling.

'_Oh, crap._'

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

The travelling feeling stopped and Harry felt the most peculiar sensation. It was almost as if he was floating, yet he could quite clearly feel the hard stone floor under his feet.

He could also feel a… _presence_. Harry was having a hard time describing it as anything else. It felt like power, vibrating through every fibre of his body. Yet, although it made his head ache, the presence was undeniably beautiful. It felt like a bottle of hot butterbeer after a long, cold Quidditch practice in the rain. It felt like the buzz inside when he got a question right in class or when the snitch was clasped in his hand. It felt like a good prank, a hearty laugh or fighting off a mountain troll with his two best friends. It felt like Sirius.

It felt like love.

Tentatively, Harry opened one eye to discover that it was none of these.

It was Time.

The wizened old wizard stood before him, amusement twinkled in his eyes as he regarded him. The sword was clasped firmly in his hands, pulsing slightly with suppressed power. Managing to tear his eyes away from Time's powerful presence for a moment, Harry saw Ron and Hermione standing either side of him, both looking as shaken and awed as he felt.

"Hello, young ones," Time greeted, looking from one to the other.

Unbidden, a slight surge of anger swelled inside Harry at, yet again, being called _young_. Hadn't he proved himself to be more than just a reckless child?

Time fixed Harry with a piercing stare, making his anger fade into nervousness as he swallowed. Then Time gave a small chuckle, making him jump. "Yes, I suppose you have," he agreed, earning confused glances from Ron and Hermione. "But," he explained, "when you have been around as long as I have, then everyone seems young." He chuckled again and Ron and Harry exchanged glances. He might be Time itself, but it didn't stop him being slightly batty.

"Well then," Time continued, his laughter stopping as abruptly as it started. Clapping his hands together, the three of them jumped as the sound reverberated eerily in the strange open space they were in. "Now, where was it… I know it was around here… somewhere."

As Time searched high and low around the obviously empty whiteness, Ron and Harry once again caught each other's eyes and looked away. Harry knew exactly what Ron was thinking; how on _earth_ could a supposedly all-powerful deity be so… barmy? '_Although I suppose_ _he _is_ very old… and clearly quite senile._'

With a suddenness that made them all jump again Time hit his forehead. "Of course!" he cried, beaming at no one in particular. "How could I _be_ so stupid?" And he flourished one of his knobbly hands.

With a faint whistling sound, reality suddenly shifted around them and with an abruptness that made Harry's head hurt he found himself sat in a big pink fluffy armchair, holding a slightly melted chocolate frog and sat around a round wooden table. Ron and Hermione looked equally surprised at the sudden shift although whereas Hermione was staring at Time in awe, Ron was sniffing suspiciously at the pumpkin pasty he was holding.

Time noticed Ron's dubious examination and gave another one of his hearty laughs. "Eat up, eat up!" he boomed, motioning at the platter of various foodstuff. "Time travel is hungry work."

At that all three exchanged hopeful glances. Did that mean what they thought it did? Harry didn't see how it could mean anything else. Why else would Time bring them here?

Wherever here was…

As Harry tentatively bit into his chocolate frog, Hermione cleared her throat hesitantly. "Excuse me, Mr Time, sir?" Time looked at her expectantly. "Are you going to send us back? Back to our own time, I mean?"

"Do you not want any of my food?" Time asked, offended. "I baked it myself, it's really quite suspicious. Delicious, even, _delicious_, not suspicious!"

"Erm… ok," Hermione said, picking up a pink fairy cake, even as Ron dropped his. She didn't make to eat it though, instead continuing. "I was just wondering… although we're very grateful that you're sending us back, of course… I was just wondering why you sent us here in the first place."

The silence that followed was a very heavy one. Time looked intently at Hermione who, though she swallowed nervously, kept his gaze. Harry also kept a close eye on Time. More than anything else, this what he wanted to know the answer to. _Why_ had Time put him through all this the last few weeks?

"What makes you think there _is_ a why?" Time asked suddenly, voice cold. "What makes you think that I didn't just decide to randomly send you back in time? What makes you think this isn't how I amuse myself?"

Harry and Ron stared at him, but Hermione – quickly losing her nervousness – smiled thinly. "I don't believe that, sir," she said simply. "There's a reason – a _why_ – behind everything we do. Professor Dumbledore told me that and I believe him."

Time stared at her icily for a few more seconds. Just as Harry rather thought he was going to vaporise Hermione he beamed brightly and clapped his hands. "Excellent, excellent," he exclaimed, looking extremely happy. "But then you have always been quite bright, Miss Granger – and as for little Albus…" he broke off into another chuckle. "He's been one of the most interesting beings I've had the pleasure to watch in the last millennium or so."

While Harry tried to get his head round the mental image of anyone calling elderly Professor Dumbledore 'little Albus', Time clapped his hands again. This time a teapot appeared. Catching their dubious glances as he poured himself a cup of tea, Time explained, "It's quite a long story. Don't want my throat to get parched, now, do I? Would you like some?"

"Erm, no thanks," Harry said as politely as possible. The tea was bright pink too.

"Pity, pity," Time mumbled before taking a sip. As he sighed contentedly all three time-travellers looked at each other in part disbelief, part exasperation. "Now then," Time said and all three heads snapped back to him, "down to business. You want to know why I sent you three here… or, rather, then."

They all nodded and Harry could see Hermione leaning forward eagerly in her seat.

"Well, it's rather a complicated tale," he said, a smile flashing across his wizened face. "You see, _part_ of the reason why you are not ready to know yet – and I am not allowed to tell you – but that part is also vital to the tale." Taking another sip of pink tea he watched Harry cautiously over the rim.

He had every right to be cautious because Harry was furious. Everyone, _everywhere_, was always telling him he was too young, or not ready. Hadn't he proven that he was, countless times? Didn't Time remember that the last time someone had kept something he needed from him that Sirius had _died_? He should; after all, Sirius' death seemed to be the one thing that underpinned this entire stupid escapade. He opened his mouth to tell Time exactly this but was cut off.

"I _know_, Harry. I _know_," he said quietly. "But this isn't the same. My not telling you this will not put you in any danger, nor leave without some vital information that could save yourself or others. And," he added with a wicked grin, "it is something that, fear not, you shall discover for yourself very shortly." He laughed again and this time it was not a nice laugh. "When you do, you might wish you didn't!"

Harry wasn't sure if that made him more or less annoyed about having information withheld from him. Whichever one it was, it made him uneasy. He looked over at Hermione; she too looked disconcerted with Time's reaction. Ron looked downright alarmed.

"But all that's in the future," Time said, ignoring their various reactions. "What you need to know about is Past."

Although it was nearly two weeks ago, Harry couldn't help the shiver that ran down his spine. That last encounter with Past still was fresh in his mind; how close he had come to being destroyed still haunted his thoughts in quiet moments. On either side of him, Ron and Hermione stiffened expectantly.

"Yes, he is," Time said suddenly, much to Harry's confusion. He looked over at Hermione and Ron; the latter looked equally bewildered but Hermione seemed to understand exactly what Time meant. She went pink at Harry and Ron's pointed looks and explained, "I was just wondering if you were a Queen or a King, Harry."

That didn't clear anything up for Harry, anymore than it seemed to be for Ron. "I should bloody well hope it's obvious that he's not a Queen, Hermione," Ron spluttered, looking between Harry and Hermione incredulously.

Hermione's blush deepened. "No that's not – shut up, Ron!" she snapped, embarrassed. It probably didn't help that Time was once again laughing his head off. "When we found that passage about _Time_ – what led us to come rescue you – it said that Time chose people who were important 'players' in the world. It likened the world to a game of chess – how some people are pawns and knights and how some people are Kings and Queens…" she trailed off at the look on Harry's face.

"This is _life_, not a _game_, Hermione," Harry started angrily.

Hermione scowled at him. "I _know_ that, Harry," she snapped, annoyed. "I'm just repeating what the book said. But even you have to admit that some people are more… not important, but more _influential_ than others, especially when troubled times are approaching. Just compare Dumbledore with someone like Stan Shunpike, for Merlin's sake."

Harry wanted to retort, but he couldn't think of a logical argument. As much as he didn't like what she was saying, even _he_ had to admit it was true. And, however much more he didn't like the implications, he had to concede that in the world of Voldemort he definitely was a King or a Queen… especially considering that stupid prophecy…

"You understand, don't you." It wasn't a question. Time was watching Harry carefully as he processed Hermione's words. "You don't have to like it – indeed, you would be quite, quite mad to like it – but you have to face the reality."

"So, why did you send Harry back here where that _thing_ – erm, Past – tried to kill him if he's so important? Surely that would mess up the world completely? Or, um, something like that," Ron finished lamely, ears going red with embarrassment. It wasn't every day you accused a deity of making a mistake.

Time, however, didn't seem to mind. "It's quite simple, Mr Weasley," he said amiably, taking another sip of tea. "There are two sets of people to every large confrontation in history. Usually they can be defined by their view of the past. One side will have seen their mistakes, learned from them and are moving on, looking forward to the future. The other side, however, will still be ensnared by their past; there will be things there that still have a grip on them, things and details that they can't let go of. When you can't move on from your past, you can't see the future; all you can see is the past and the wrongs that have been done to you. It consumes your very being until all you feel is hatred and revenge." Time paused and looked at Harry. "Sound familiar to you?"

Harry supposed Time was hinting at Voldemort. Who else, after all, would be the leader of the other side? At first though he couldn't see how Time's description could fit Voldemort at all. But then, the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. When Harry had met the memory of Tom Riddle in the chamber, what had he said then?

"_You think I was going to use my filthy Muggle father's name for ever? I, in whose veins runs the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself, through my mother's side? I, keep the name of a foul, common Muggle, who abandoned my me even before I was born, just because he found out his wife was a witch?"_

Tom Riddle had been abandoned, left to grow up in an orphanage he despised, all because one Muggle could not deal with the reality of witchcraft. He spent his first years of life feeling unloved, alone, abandoned and totally insignificant to the rest of the world. Forgettable. Nothing.

So he spent the rest of his life trying to become someone that no one would ever forget again; 'the greatest sorcerer in the world'. And who could he punish for making him feel so insignificant, for making him feel that way? A muggle had abandoned him, muggles had raised him and told him he was worthless in that orphanage so all muggles had to pay for those crimes. All muggles should suffer, be dismissed, just as they had dismissed him.

Harry shivered and looked back up at Time. "I understand," he said. "But I still don't get what that has to do with me."

Time, for once, looked very serious. "You were beginning to slip, Harry," he said quietly. "You've had a tough life, much more difficult than most, but through it all you've been looking forward, to what you could _do_, what could happen, not to what _had_ happened. But recent events… have changed that."

Sirius. He didn't have to say it; it was obvious, even to Ron. Ever since the Department of Mysteries, most of his time had been spent looking backwards at that day, kicking himself for being so foolish. He'd been consumed with feelings of anger and bitterness towards different members of people; himself, Snape, Dumbledore, Umbridge, Kreacher, Voldemort…

"A dangerous, downwards spiral," Time agreed solemnly. "I gave you time to get out of it on your own, but it wasn't working. You were becoming lost and, with the dawn of war imminent, it was a chance I couldn't take. So I pulled you back to confront those aspects of your past that were troubling you."

"Why?"

Time stared at Ron a little incredulously. "My dear boy, have I not just spent the last five minutes explaining why?"

Ron went red again. "Not – why was it a chance you couldn't take? Aren't you Time? What do you care what happens to anyone?"

Hermione looked impressed and Harry could see why. That wasn't the sort of thing that Ron usually picked up on. Time also looked impressed, but he frowned. "That's… I can't – that's the part of the tale that I cannot tell. Not yet." At Harry's scowl he laughed again. "In time, Mr Potter, in time. But I can, however, give you a hint."

Harry saw Hermione perk up in the corner of his eye at that. He wasn't sure _he_ felt so enthusiastic. If their meeting with Time was any indication, a hint from Time would be as useful as hair dye for Tonks.

"So then, here's something for you to mull over in the next few weeks; I was trying very hard to save your life, Mr Potter; to turn you from the past towards the future. I cannot tell you why, but just as hard as I was trying to save you, Past was trying to destroy you. Think on why that was." He paused for a moment whilst they all looked confused, even – to Harry's dismay – Hermione. Then, with an abrupt change of mood, Time clapped his hands again and suddenly they were standing. "Now then; I rather think it's time – ha ha, get it? Time? – for you all to be off back to the then and now."

"Wait!" Harry said quickly as he realised that was all they were going to get out of Time. "What about… what about Sirius and my parents? Won't they remember us?"

"Not exactly," Time said. Those months you've stayed with them have already happened… and also not happened. Your parents – anyone, in fact, who was there and heard about it – will remember that there were three exchange students for a while, but your faces will be blurry, names will have twisted out of memory. Their perception of the bigger events – pranks, Quidditch matches – will have been altered to change their memories of who was doing what. You don't need to worry about them recognising you because they never have."

Hermione frowned and stared at Time. "But if all this has happened before then surely you already knew that Harry would succeed in repelling Past so it wasn't a big risk?"

But Time was shaking his head. "The first time this all happened you three disappeared after the fourth confrontation with Past."

Harry;s mouth dropped open. "You mean the first time I was destroyed?!"

Time huffed in annoyance. "No, no – try to keep up. The first time I experienced those events, I could not see what had happened to you because it was _your_ future more than it was the present future that was happening at the time."

"You what?"

"Up until that fourth confrontation, all your actions influenced the present future – your family, Godfather, etc. – more than it did _your_ future; the future future. So I could see those events just the same as you experienced them. But your choice, Harry, that was an important one, one whose sole repurcussions were for the future. After that fourth confrontation, the present carried on as if you had never existed. It was shadowy and insubstantial for a while but it soon firmed up after a month or so. It was only until we were in _your_ present that I could see _that_ present for myself. Understand?"

"I think you just melted my brain," Ron groaned, looking dizzy. Hermione looked slightly less bewildered than Ron but still quite perplexed. Harry was comforted by that fact; if _Hermione_ couldn't understand it then Harry felt quite comforted that he couldn't make heads or tails of it either.

"Well, Time travel _is_ a bit of a mind bender, or so I'm told," Time said, comfortingly. "Can drive a person quite mad, apparently."

Ron turned his snort into a cough.

"Well then, I do believe it's time to send you all on your merry way," Time said, deciding to ignore Ron's derision. "After all, the future only waits for me! ADIOS!"

And, with another clap of his hands, the whiteness intensified and then all was black.

_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_

**Authors Note:**

I know the meeting with Time doesn't necessarily make much sense and that is because Time is a Healer was intended as a prequel to another story which explains all this. I know it is very unlikely to ever be written (especially considering how long this has taken me to get out) but it is still how the story was originally supposed to end. Sorry!

Just one more chapter (the epilogue) left! After going months and years between updates I'm happy to report the epilogue has been written (actually it's been written for years) so it will be up on Friday or Saturday.

Thanks for reading,

Hannanora-Potter

~x~x~x~


	22. In which Hermione recieves a detention

**Title:** Time is a Healer

**Summary:** Harry, Ron and Hermione are suddenly and inexplicably thrown into the Marauders' sixth year at Hogwarts. Delighted with this chance to meet his parents and reunite with the recently deceased Sirius, Harry soon starts to cut his ties for the future, leaving Ron and Hermione seriously worried. And what's the monster that's starting to stalk Harry?

**Timeline and Spoilers:** Books 1 through 5, at the beginning of Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts (very beginning)

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and any related characters and setting are all the property of J.K. Rowling and not me.

**Extra:** '_blah_' = thoughts

_**Epilogue: In Which Hermione Receives a Detention**_

Hermione Granger hurtled through the corridors fleet slipping and sliding on the well-polished floor. '_I don't believe it!_' She groaned, as she glanced desperately at her watch. '_Twenty past! I've _never_ been so late for a lesson – _ever_!_'

She didn't Hermione Granger hurtled through the corridors fleet slipping and sliding on the well-polished floor. '_I don't believe it!_' she groaned, as she glanced desperately at her watch. '_Twenty past! I've _never_ been so late for a lesson _ever_!_

She didn't know how she'd come to be so late. One minute she was dozing in the common room, next zooming through the empty halls. Well, all right, being asleep wasn't quite the best way for one to pay attention to class time, but honestly – twenty minutes late? She threw another glance at her watch. '_Eleven twenty _four_! Is time speeding up or something?'_

She launched herself on the nearest staircase, but she had only taken a few leaps, before the stairs lurched and she was thrown against the stone railing: the staircase was moving. Righting herself, she tried not to jiggle impatiently on the spot whilst it swivelled to its new destination. Already she was gasping for breath and her book bag was beginning to drag on her shoulders.

The staircase came to a grinding halt and Hermione jumped off, onto the new corridor. Almost immediately, the staircase began to slide away again and Hermione realised with dismay that she had never been in this part of Hogwarts before now. The elaborate tapestries that hung on the wall were a complete mystery and she had never seen the portraits before. Several wizened wizards stared at her just as intently as she did them.

A small beeping at her wrist brought her back to reality – the watch now read 11:30. This unexplored corridor would have to wait – right now, she had to get to Charms. With speed induced by a slight panic, Hermione set off, her legs protesting slightly. She chose speed over carefulness.

'_OK, so I've never been in this _particular_ corridor before,_' she told herself, dodging an ornamental vase on a stand._ 'But, it's on the same floor, so Charms has _got_ to be around here somewhere.'_

"_Tempus temporissss…._"

A ghostly whisper echoed around the halls and brought Hermione back down to Earth. She continued running, but looked over her shoulder in shock, intently searching for the owner of the voice. But there was no one, or, indeed, no _thing_ there: just the seemingly endless corridor. Hermione had to blink sudden tears from her eyes – for a moment that had sounded like Sirius.

As she twisted around, her foot caught on the hem of her robes and she tripped. Instinctively, she flung out an arm to catch hold of something to stop her fall. Dimly, she registered cool metal on her skin before a sharp pain flared and warmth drenched her hand. She caught a brief glimpse of a wizard and a sword before she fell on her back to gaze at the ceiling.

Even that change of scenery was short lived as her momentum caused her to roll back over herself. As she knocked her head on the floor, Hermione mentally screamed, '_I don't have _TIME_ for this!'_

It was so quick that she thought she had imagined it. A flash of blue light and an overpowering wind, but it lasted barely a second. And when Hermione grounded to a halt, everything was as it was before.

Then she blinked, suddenly confused as to why she was lying on the floor, face pressed into the cold stone. A little dazed, she began to sit up, sneezing at the large amount of dust on the floor. As she pushed up on her hands, her right one gave a sharp pang and she hissed, drawing the hand in for a closer look.

And groaned.

For there, looking as innocent as a bleeding split in her skin could, was a cut. As she watched the blood begin to well up and spill onto the floor memory came flooding back to her. '_Bloody Merlin!_' she thought, eyes widening. '_Time, that trip to the Past – it can't have happened again… could it?_'

Hermione twisted her head to gaze at the statue of Time, the faintest smear of her blood on the shining sword in his hand. Feeling a terrible surge of dread she got to her feet and stood in front of the statue. Even though she had met the real thing, Time's statue still had an eerie air about it. Hermione stopped staring when she caught the statue winking at her. Instead she turned her attention to the sword. Part of her was still panicked about missing charms, but she had a feeling that this would be the only chance she'd have to explore this corridor.

Tentatively, Hermione put a finger to the cool blade. It tingled faintly under her touch and, as she ran her finger down the blade, she found a groove. Frowning, she carefully twisted around the blade to read what was engraved there.

'_Tempus temporis hic medicor'_

Smiling, Hermione drew away from the statue. '_Trust Time_.'

Picking up her belongings – including her mislaid S.P.E.W. badge – Hermione set off for charms, pausing to look at the tapestries and portraits of Time and Past, her mind still wheeling from that conversation in the in between. As she stepped out of the corridor, she paused this time, turning round as the corridor silently sealed behind her, the cupboard popping back into existence behind her. She didn't know how she felt yet about their time in the past. In a way it was a wonderful experience, getting to know the infamous Marauders in their heyday… but then she kept being brought back to Earth, remembering how that tight-knit group was ripped apart only a few years later. She couldn't even begin to imagine what Harry had gone through.

And then, of course, there were Time's ominous hints about the future…

A little beeping at her wrist brought her out of her reverie: 10:45. '_Oh, well._' She sighed, heading off to face Flitwick. Although there was hardly any of the lesson left, she had something she wanted to show Harry.

**_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_**

Harry and Ron weren't paying much attention to Professor Flitwick's talk about the Avis charm. Rather they were wondering where on Earth Hermione was. She had had a free period before their current charms lesson and then just hadn't shown up. It really wasn't like Hermione to miss a lesson. The last time she had done it was back in third year due to exhaustion from continued use of a time turner and had ended up slapping Malfoy round the head. Although, both Ron and Harry agreed, they wouldn't mind a repeat performance of the latter.

It was now nearing the end of the lesson and although Professor Flitwick was getting rather annoyed with them, all they could do was discuss where Hermione could be – and what could have happened to her. "After Charms, if we just – " Ron was saying, before Professor Flitwick's squeak of surprise cut him off.

"Miss Granger! Why are you so late?"

Harry and Ron whipped their heads around, so hard it made Harry's neck twinge. "Hermio – " Ron exclaimed, before stopping, eyes widening as memory of the last few months – although it wasn't months, not really – it hadn't even happened yet, had it? – surged through their brains. "Bloody Hell!" Ron finished, actually falling off his seat as his flinched backwards.

There was a scattering of laughter at this, though Flitwick merely frowned at him. "That will be enough, Mr Weasley," he said, before turning back to Hermione. "Do you have a reason for your tardiness, Miss Granger?" he asked and even Harry, who's ears were ringing and eyes watering with the force of the memories, could detect the hint of hopefulness. Obviously, Flitwick hoped that at least his star pupil wouldn't start skiving his classes without reason.

Unfortunately for him, Hermione swallowed, flitting a glance towards Harry. "No, Professor. I'm sorry."

Flitwick sighed. "Detention, Miss Granger," he said, motioning her towards the saved seat next to Harry. "Although I daresay there is little point in taking you seat as class is due to end in five minutes time. Perhaps you can use this time to catch up on what you missed," he added coldly.

Hermione went bright red, but sat down and silently flicked her wand, sending a stream of birds overhead. Flitwick now went red, staring at Hermione in shock for a few minutes, before walking away very quickly. Hermione ignored him, already scribbling something down on a bit of parchment.

"Bloody Merlin, Hermione," Ron whispered, clambering off his seat. "Time wasn't kidding when he said right back, was he?" He paused a bit, then stared at Hermione. "Hell, Hermione, we've just travelled back in time and… well, back forward again and you're writing _notes_? We've already done this class – and the next few months' worth!" He sat back suddenly, as though a thought had just occurred to him. "Bloody hell, you realise this means we don't have to pay attention in class until sometime in November?" He closed his eyes. "Bliss!"

Hermione, waving her parchment to dry it, snorted. "Not likely, Ron – unless you can remember everything we did and have all your notes and copies of all the homework you did?" she asked, eyebrow raised. "And I doubt the syllabus is still the same after twenty odd years."

Ron sat forward abruptly, eyes open and glaring at Hermione. "Her_mione_!" he snapped. "You're ruining my dream!"

Hermione snorted and Harry cut over her retort before she could even think of it. "What've you written there, Hermione?" he asked, drawing her attention away from Ron.

Hermione blushed a little, and held the parchment out to him tentatively. "It was written on Time's sword," she said, smiling slightly. "I thought you might want it."

Harry looked at her, unsure, before taking the parchment from her fingers and looking down at it:

_Tempus Temporis Hic Medicor_

_Time is a Healer_

**_~Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~ Time is a Healer~_**

_**Authors Note:**_ Well, that's it – the end! I hope you enjoyed it all and sorry it took so long to get it out here! It's been a labour of love and hate (although mainly love!) and my writing style has changed so much in ten years (cannot believe it's taken that long) but it's still my first fanfic story that I wrote (and the first multi-chaptered story that I finished as well :)

Thank you to anyone who's ever read, reviewed, favourited or followed this story.

Lots of Love,

Hannanora Potter

~x~x~x~


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